


All Five Horizons

by vintagexdoll



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, Auror Harry Potter, F/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, eighth year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23869786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagexdoll/pseuds/vintagexdoll
Summary: Months after the Battle of Hogwarts, tensions are rising in the wizarding world, as new enemies begin to threaten Harry's livelihood. On top of this, Harry falls in love with muggle girl. How will he mend these two worlds?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue

“Go ahead. Kill me.” the boy grimaced, clutching his side in pain. “I made my peace with death a long time ago.”

The man laughed maniacally. “Don’t you see, you fool, that that’s precisely your problem? If you showed a little more _fear_ of death, no one would have to retort to killing your loved ones instead!”

The boy’s eyes shot wide open. He stood up abruptly, almost crying out in pain, and limped toward the man.

“Come on, now, Potter. You can do it, just a bit more.” sneered the man.

“Where is she?” spat Harry.

The man simply smirked.

“She’s dead.”

In the blink of an eye, both men had their wands raised, pointed at each other. _He’s lying_ , Harry thought desperately. _He’s lying_. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t feel, the only thing he knew was the rage consuming him, a rage that he’d never felt before, that made him want to kill…

They opened their mouthes at the same time, shouting the unforgivable words, green rays bursting out the tips of their wands.


	2. A Bizarre Dinner

Harry stared at his cousin from across the booth.

“They should be here by now.” said Dudley, glancing at his watch nervously, as he had done every thirty seconds for the past five minutes.

Harry thought that if he had asked himself, a year before, if he was more likely to win against Voldemort or end up getting dinner with his cousin a year later, he would’ve chosen the former. Or probably neither, in all honesty. Yet here he was sitting across a table from Dudley, waiting for his cousin’s friend to arrive, months after the fall of Voldemort.

“Dudley… why am I here again?” asked Harry, surveying his cousin warily.

“Moral support.” said Dudley shortly. This left Harry with even more questions than before.

“You’ve got, uh, other people for that, no?” said Harry irritably. There was an awkward silence as Dudley looked around at anything but Harry.

“Listen, Harry. I-I like this girl, alright. I wanna make a good impression. And… and she wouldn’t like me if she knew my friends.” Dudley blurt out the last part and regret immediately covered his face. Harry couldn’t exactly disagree with Dudley on that point, so he remained quiet. This wasn’t the first time Dudley had acted completely out of character and shocked Harry since he’d left Privet Drive.

“Oh, God. They’re here.” choked Dudley.

Harry turned around to see two girls walking toward their table. One of them had short, curly hair, with light brown skin and a short, plump figure. The second girl was a slender brunette, with sharp, hazel eyes. The curly-haired girl sat next to Dudley, greeting him with a brief hug. Harry was amusedly observing Dudley’s red face following the interaction, and hardly noticed the other girl sitting next to him.

“So who’s your friend?” said the curly-haired girl excitedly.

“Oh - uh, Heather, this is my cousin, Harry. Harry - Heather.”

Harry gave Heather a nod, which she returned with an enthusiastic smile, that she’d been sporting from the second she arrived.

“Well, Dudley, Harry - this is my friend, Sadie.” said Heather.

Harry turned to look at the girl next to him, who gave him a small smile. Harry stared at the pretty girl a moment longer than he usually would’ve, before quickly getting a hold of himself and turning around.

The waiter came to take their orders, and Harry ordered a hamburger with chips. Dudley and Heather were engaged in conversation, leaving Harry and Sadie to awkwardly sit there. Finally, Heather turned to Harry.

“That’s quite the scar you’ve got there. Mind if I ask how you got that?”

Dudley shot Harry a panicked look. Strangely, Dudley had been too obsessed with Heather’s arrival to inform Harry of which protocol to follow if magic came up. Harry decided to go with the usual story.

“Car accident. I was only a baby, don’t remember any of it.” said Harry, as Dudley instantly relaxed in the corner of his eye.

Heather looked solemn, and Harry got the impression that his story had genuinely upset her. “Gee that’s… that’s awful. Well, at least you got off alright.”

“Yeah, I did, not my parents unfortunately. Both died.” Harry replied shortly. He had an almost comical jolt of realization: the people around him really had no idea who he was. He wasn’t Harry Potter, with his tragic backstory and heroic feats- he was just a teenage boy, like them.

Despite his own humorous contemplations, Heather looked downright horrified, and he noticed Sadie had turned her head, and was surveying him curiously.

“Um, it’s fine, really. I really don’t remember any of it. Dudley and I grew up together, you know.” Harry finally said, hoping that this would turn their conversation back to Dudley. He realized his mistake soon after, as Heather excitedly said,

“How interesting! What was that like?”

He gave Dudley a quick look, hoping for an indication of how to proceed, but noticed the boy was just staring down at his empty plate dejectedly. Just as he was about to fabricate something, the food arrived.

The conversation of Harry and Dudley’s upbringing was quickly forgotten as everyone dived into their food. Harry learned that Heather and Dudley had met at Heather’s university, where Dudley had gone an afternoon for a wrestling meet.

“We’re both at university.” said Heather, with her mouth full. Harry couldn’t help but think that Petunia would disapprove of Heather’s bubbly, carefree character.

“I’m doing early childhood education. I wanna be a teacher. And Sadie’s doing - what’re you doing Sadie?” she continued.

“English language and literature.” the other girl finished. Harry noticed that it was her first time actually saying anything that night.

“Do you wanna be an _author_ or something?” said Dudley incredulously. Harry assumed that he was disbelieving of the fact that anyone would choose a creative field with no financial security. Sadie ignored his expression, and smiled.

“That would be nice.”

“And what about you, Harry?” said Heather. “What do you do?”

“I’m at the ministry.” the answer rolled off Harry’s tongue before he could stop himself. He found himself thinking more and more that he needed to practice his interactions with muggles better.

“As in, like, parliament?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. Just low-level stuff, internships, you know. Trying to get into criminal justice.” he said, wondering how convincing he’d came off.

“Oh, sweet!”

The conversation continued mostly between Dudley and Heather, with Harry occasionally interjecting when being directly talked with, and Sadie not saying a word. His curiosity with Sadie increased as the night progressed. He wondered if he was just caught up with her because he found her strikingly pretty, but he found her quietness more interesting. He felt his heart give a pang, and he was thinking about Ginny again. His mood instantly turned sour. _Come on,_ he thought to himself, _get a grip._

The night was coming to an end, and the four sat up from their table and began putting their coats on. They exited the restaurant into the cold, October night.

“Alright then. I’m gonna walk Heather home. Harry, would you mind walking Sadie?” said Dudley, giving his cousin an awkward pat on the shoulder.

Harry was about to reply, when Sadie answered for him. “I can make it alone. It’s okay.”

Three of the four quickly objected. “It’s 11pm in London, Sadie. Don’t be ridiculous. Harry’s agreed to walk you.” said Heather.

Sadie shot him a furtive look. “It’s no problem.” he said, shrugging.

They said their goodbyes and separated into the night.

Harry was well aware of the fact that he was out, alone, at night. Although there’d been no new occurrences involving death eaters since their trials, he still felt overtly paranoid most of the time. He thought, darkly, that he finally understood what Mad-Eye Moody had meant by _constant vigilance._ He unconsciously moved his hand to where his wand rested in his back pocket.

“It’s this way.” said Sadie quietly, motioning to the right.

“Right, right. I forgot to even ask where you live.” he said apologetically.

“It’s okay. We’re only about ten minutes away.” she replied.

Harry picked up on the fact that the direction they were heading in also led to his flat.

“So, uh, you don’t speak much.” he said before he could stop himself, and then spent the next few moments regretting trying to make conversation with her.

“Yeah, well, Heather likes to be the one doing the talking.” she chuckled lightly. “Her and Dudley seem to have gotten along.” she continued, casting him a glance.

“I know. I’m quite shocked” replied Harry. He still hadn’t come to understand how Dudley had fallen for a woman who was the polar opposite of his own mother.

“How come?” asked Heather, as if she had been reading his thoughts. Harry felt stuck on what to say back, not wanting to cast a bad light on Dudley.

“His- uh, mother. My aunt. She’s very… particular. Hard to explain.” he finally said. There was a long pause, with their footsteps being the only sound in the whole city, it seemed.

“You’ve got a lot to sort out, you and Dudley. I can tell.” she said softly, but with a bluntness that made Harry almost stop in his tracks.

“That’s a bit rash, isn’t it? I mean, we’ve just met —”

“Well this is me.” She interrupted, coming to a halt outside of a brick building. She opened the keys to the front door.

“It was nice to meet you, Harry.” she said softly. They looked at each other for a few seconds, before she smiled at him and made her way inside. Harry stood there for a few moments, watching her retreating figure, before realizing he wasn’t too far from his own flat, and deciding to make the walk home.

He remembered he had work in the morning, and a quick look to his watch alerted him to the fact that it was 11:15pm. He sped up his walking, and found himself forgetting of the dangers of London and death eaters momentarily, his conversation with Sadie stuck on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so this is the first time I publish a fic. I don't really expect anyone to read it, but I've had a lot of fun writing it and have written a fair amount of it so I thought why not?


	3. Letters

“Alright, you can go ahead and have your lunch break now. After, I want all of this done before you leave tonight.” Williams handed him a stack of papers and walked away.

Harry sighed as he went to drop off the papers at his cubicle, and quickly found Ron so they could get lunch together.

“You know, you’d think we’d be out there, putting death eaters in Azkaban, or at least learning new things, but it’s just… bloody paperwork all day.” sighed Ron, as he sat alongside Harry.

“They’re understaffed.” reasoned Harry, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “And Williams said at least six months, and we’d be out there too.”

Ron grunted and the two ate their food. Harry began to recount to Ron the weird events of the night before, of Dudley and the two girls. Ron looked at Harry as if he expected him to go “Sike!” at any moment. Then, after a silence:

“You… with your COUSIN?”

A couple of onlookers gave Ron a dirty look at his outburst. Harry could understand Ron’s shock and for a second thought maybe he had maybe under reacted to the situation.

“Said he needed ‘moral support’” he gestured, shrugging. “That he liked this girl, and didn’t want her to meet his actual friends. I dunno.”

“You’re a nice old bastard.” said Ron, shaking his head. “Not hexing him on first sight, couldn’t expect that from me. Well anyway, I got a letter from Hermione. They’re having a Hogsmeade trip soon. I was thinking we could go.” said Ron, casting Harry an inquisitive look. Harry thought of his reply carefully.

“I think I’ll stay, Ron. Pretty busy over here.” he finally said, looking at anywhere but Ron. Ron looked as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind and began eating his food again.

The lunch break ended too soon, and the two returned to the piles of paperwork sitting on their desks. As Harry sorted through the piles, he noticed that he too had received a letter from Hermione. Harry quickly opened it.

_Harry,_

_How’ve you been? I can’t even put into words how much I miss you and Ron. Hogwarts doesn’t feel the same without you. I’ve been hanging out with Neville and Luna and stuff, and I do greatly enjoy their company, but I just wish you guys were here so much. The atmosphere around here is nice though, it feels serene. As you already know, most of the Slytherins didn’t come back this year, so there’s also a newfound friendliness between houses. My workload is probably double of that from when we had our O.W.L’s, and it’s only October! I really think that I’m just as stressed right now, as I was on our horcrux hunt, Harry. Isn’t that saying something!_

_Well, in any case, the main reason I’m writing to you is because we have a Hogsmeade trip on October 27th. I wanted to invite you and Ron, as I’m just dying to see the both of you. And…I’m worried about you, Harry. I know all the Voldemort stuff is over, but I can tell you’re not okay right now. If it’s about Ginny, I can talk to her and tell her to steer clear that day, I’m sure she’d understand… or we could just go to the Hog’s Head and avoid everyone. Neville and Luna are very eager to see you too. I’d love to talk to you, Harry. Remember I’m always here for you. Let me know how you’re doing, and if you’ll be at Hogsmeade on the 27th. Also, how is Ted doing?_

_Lots of love,_

_Hermione_

He read the letter and found himself deeply missing Hermione upon finishing it. She had been the only one who could somewhat comfort him that summer, as he’d had a hard time even being around Ron in the direct aftermath of Fred dying. For a second he even considered going to Hogsmeade to see her, but reality quickly washed over him. He’d never be able to get a moment alone with her with her and Ron being together, and it was likely that Neville and Luna would want to tagalong too. On top of that, asking everyone to steer clear of Ginny sounded a bit pathetic, and he thought he’d rather be hexed than spend an afternoon with Ginny.

He considered writing a quick reply before getting back to his pile of papers, but thought Hermione deserved a more thought out response, so he resumed his work and decided he’d reply when he got home that night. By 6pm that night he had done all his work, and was surprised to see Ron leaving too.

“Finally finished?” said Ron, as they made their way toward the elevators. Harry nodded and the two got talking about the work they’d completed that day. As they got to the entrance hall, Harry said goodbye to Ron and began making his way to muggle London again, when Ron jogged to Harry, calling after him. The two were face to face.

“Why don’t you have dinner at the Burrow tonight?” asked Ron. “Mum’s been driving me up the wall about inviting you.”

Harry felt guilty for a moment. He was struggling to understand his own emotions, as he felt like he wanted to go but didn’t want to at the same time.

“I’m shattered tonight, Ron. Why don’t we pick a date, and -”

“You’ve been isolating yourself, mate. I don’t know why, and I want to know. You’ve gotten us all worried, Harry. Last time you were like this was fifth year, when You-know-who was inside your head. What’re we meant to think?” said Ron.

Harry had suspected that they had been talking about him again after reading Hermione’s letter. _We’re worried about you._ Of course they’d related it to Voldemort, as if nothing Harry could ever do or think wasn’t related to Voldemort… but Harry knew he had to bite the bullet and go to the Burrow eventually.

“If this is about Ginny, or for some fucked reason Fred, well you’re part of our family too Harry. So start acting like it.” said Ron with a tone of finality, as he turned around and walked away, leaving Harry standing there, both guilt and resentment gripping his insides.

At home, he decided to write back to Hermione, and thought intensely about writing to Mrs. Weasley to arrange something, but decided he’d do that the next day.

_Hermione,_

_I’m happy to hear from you, and glad you’re doing okay over there. Work is going alright, Williams says it’ll be another few months before Ron and I get to do some field work. Ron isn’t too happy with the paperwork we’ve been doing, and I can’t disagree there. It’s not the job we thought it was going to be. However, we’re still young and new to everything, after all. Hogwarts without Slytherins sounds like a paradise, now that I think about it. Maybe I’ll ask McGonagall if she’d consider letting me go back this far into the term?_

_Jokes aside, thanks for the invite to Hogsmeade. I miss you a ton too but I don’t want to be the guy who makes his friends pick sides, plus I’ve got a lot to do this weekend. I’ll see you lot soon enough! As for me, I’m doing alright. No need to worry about me._

_Ted is great, I saw him about a week ago. He had bright purple hair and is calling me “a-ee”. I can’t wait for you to see him._

_Love,_

_Harry_

* * *

Harry surveyed the letter in his hands with great interest. It had been a week since he had seen Dudley, Heather and Sadie, and had just about forgotten about that whole thing happening, except for when Dudley sent him a “Thank you” note. Now Harry stood in his doorway with a letter addressed to him coming from “Heather Blake”. He opened the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you don’t mind that I’m mailing you. Duds gave me your address._ (Harry winced at reading the word ‘Duds’) _Well, the reason I’m writing to you is that I thought you were so nice last week when we met you, and the three of us are going to a party this Saturday, and I thought it’d be superb if you could come! I’ve written the address and time beneath._

_Sincerely,_

_Heather_

Harry read the letter over five times until it sank in. What on Earth was going on? What did this mean - him and Dudley, Dudley’s friends? At his own complete inability to come up with a response, Harry set the letter aside and decided to ask Ron for help the next day.

Ron read the letter with his eyebrows raised, looking visibly pained at one point (Harry assumed that he too had had a visceral reaction to ‘Duds’), and then put the letter down, giving Harry a look.

“Alright, I see what you mean.” he said, dropping down on a chair and raising his hand to his chin, as if in deep thought.

Harry thought this an underwhelming response. “So? What’d you think?” he urged.

Ron took a few seconds. “Well… why not go? It’s a party after all.”

Harry thought about it intensely. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared to go to some party, but he was drawn to this idea. Being in a room full of people who didn’t know him, getting to laugh at Dudley trying his hardest with Heather… _That’s not really why, though_ he thought. For some reason, he’d found himself particularly interested in the fact that Heather’s friend was going to be there… although he wouldn’t dare mention this to Ron. An idea came to Harry.

“Ron - you should come! We should both go, laugh at the muggles a bit, never been to a real party or anything… what?” he added upon seeing Ron’s worried look.

“That’s the day I’m going to Hogsmeade, mate. To see Hermione and the lot.” he said with a sorry expression.

Harry went a bit pink and looked at his desk. “Right. Of course, I get that.” he said, clearing up his desk so he had something to do.

“Why don’t you try to bring my dad though? He’d have a right good time, at a muggle party, although he’d probably get sent off to a mental hospital after gawking at every little thing…”

The two laughed and the awkwardness between them lifted.

“Listen, I’ve got to get back to my stuff. I have the next two days off, so I’ve got double my usual workload.” said Ron, standing up. He went to his desk and as he sat down faced Harry again.

“Don’t get too drunk by the way, you’ve got dinner at the Burrow on Sunday!” said Ron, grinning. Harry grinned back.


	4. The Party

Saturday approached slowly. Without Ron at work, the last few days had been especially tedious, and Harry found himself obsessively thinking about asking Williams to just let him into the field work already. Aside from fantasizing about hexing Williams, the party was creeping up on Harry, and he found himself feeling increasingly regretful for having accepted the invite. He even started to wonder if it’d be too late to just go to Hogsmeade instead. The idea of being near Hogwarts, in a wizarding town with his best friends, even if he did have to put up with seeing Ginny, felt much more comforting than being at a muggle party with Dudley. Yet as the day approached, Harry made no plans to go to Hogsmeade, or to back out on the party. So, on Saturday night, he found himself staring at himself in the mirror, ready to make his way to Heather’s building complex. He found it surprisingly easy to pick out clothes to wear for the occasion, and felt momentarily thankful for his muggle upbringing. He grabbed his keys and made sure his wand was stuffed in his back pocket. Harry had been so caught up in thinking about muggle clothes and people that he temporarily forgot he was a wizard as he prepared to make the twenty minute walk to the place. Chuckling to himself, he repeated the address over and over in his head, and within seconds he apparated and found himself standing right outside the address given to him. He quickly looked around to make sure no muggles had seen his mysterious arrival, and thankfully found himself alone. The front door was open, so Harry walked in and made his way up the stairs to Flat 6. As he approached it he heard loud music and again asked himself what he’d gotten himself into.

He walked into the flat and found it packed with people, with loud grungy rock music blasting across the room. Everyone was drinking and dancing and chatting to each other. Harry made his way around the crowds, looking for Dudley or Heather or Sadie. He finally found them standing by a large window. Dudley and Heather were talking, while Sadie smoked a cigarette and looked out the window, onto the street. Harry approached the three. Dudley nodded at Harry, while Heather gave him a warm hug. Sadie looked at him curiously and smiled.

“I- I didn’t think you’d come.” said Dudley, looking at him and not even trying to mask his surprise.

“Thought it could be a fun time.” replied Harry.

“And it will be!” said Heather enthusiastically. “We were just about to get drinks. What do you guys want?” she asked Harry and Sadie. Harry was well aware he couldn’t ask for firewhiskey, and having no clue of what muggles liked to drink, he waited for Sadie to say she wanted a vodka cranberry, to which he said he wanted the same. Dudley and Heather walked to the bar, leaving Harry and Sadie standing in silence. Harry wasn’t sure what he wanted to get out of that night, but felt himself drawn to the girl standing next to him. Before he could come up with something to say, she spoke.

“Do you smoke?” she asked, blowing smoke out the window.

“I never have, actually.” he replied truthfully. He made the curious observation that he’d never met a wizard who smoked cigarettes, and wondered why.

“Really? How old are you?” she asked him.

“18. I’ve just never really, uh, been around cigarettes.” he said.

“Do you wanna try?” she said. Harry thought about it for a moment. He had never had a parent or anyone tell him smoking was bad and to not do it, but knew about its’ reputation. He did, however, feel a weird urge to impress the girl standing in front of him, so he nodded. Sadie smiled.

“So you take a long and slow draw, and wait for it to fill your lungs, before exhaling.” she explained. Harry prepared himself to be handed the cigarette, however to his surprise, she held it to his mouth instead. His heart skipping a beat at the proximity, Harry followed her instructions. Immediately he coughed the smoke out, making Sadie laugh. He blushed.

“Don’t worry. It happens to everyone.” she said encouragingly, as she brought the cigarette to her own lips again.

“Let me try again.” he said, observing her do it. This time she handed him the cigarette, and as he took a drag out of it, he didn’t cough. He felt light-headed for a few moments, and realized he liked the feeling as he took another draw. Sadie raised her eyebrows.

“Look at you, a natural.”

Dudley and Heather came back, holding two drinks each, and handed them to the other pair. Dudley looked at the cigarette in Harry’s hand in apparent surprise.

“Since when do you smoke?” he asked him.

“Tonight, apparently.” he replied.

“We were just talking about how weird this year has been. Remember all the bad weather and fog, the deaths, the disasters? Isn’t it odd how it all just stopped a few months ago? I can’t lie, it felt like coming out of a long nightmare. Like I’d found _happiness_ again.” said Heather easily. Harry tensed up and looked at Dudley, who’s sickened expression told him that the last thing he wanted to be talking about was that. Harry decided to take him out of his misery.

“Very bizarre, wasn’t it?” he said, downing his cup of vodka cranberry after. He felt the pleasurable burn that firewhiskey usually gave him.

“It was quite tragic. I knew a girl in my college who knew a boy in her neighborhood who’s aunt apparently disappeared without a trace. I mean, how on Earth…” Heather shook her head, taking a sip of her drink. Harry’s eyes diverted to Sadie, who had gone very pale, looking as if she’d just seen a ghost. Harry was about to ask her if she was okay as they made eye contact.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” she choked, and quickly ran off. He watched after her, and turned to the others to see if they were also concerned, however found Dudley looking rather indifferent, and Heather with a grin on her face.

“Not everyone can hold their liquor!” she laughed. Harry felt a rush of adrenaline as he wondered what had just happened. He knew by the look on her face that it had nothing to do with the alcohol. She was completely fine before the conversation about Voldemort came up (or, the “strange occurrences” that muggles believed had happened), and as he looked at the cup she’d left behind, noticed it was completely full, untouched. Could it be possible… that Sadie was a witch? That she knew what was behind all of it?

“I _love_ this song!” exclaimed Heather excitedly. Harry watched as Dudley looked at Heather with a look he’d seen on Hermione and Ron’s faces before, on Ginny’s…

“Do- do you wanna dance?” he asked her anxiously. Heather grinned, grabbing his hand and leading him to the center, where people where dancing. Harry noticed his empty cup, and took advantage of the situation to go ask for another drink. As he walked past groups of people talking and drinking, he heard snippets of conversations and found himself surprisingly interested in what muggles talked about.

“You cannot, _cannot_ , say Margaret Thatcher was a good prime minister. That old bat-”

“Godfather II? Better than the first? You must have lost your damn mind, Sean.”

“Oi! Mate! Help us settle a bet here.”

Harry whipped his head around, as he felt the last voice was talking to him. He found a group of guys staring at him expectedly. He was confused but walked to the group nonetheless.

“Alright — Joey says Arsenal’s 100% gonna win the League. He bet 50 quid on it, the poor bastard. But I say, with Anelka injured, they’re fucked!” he explained, with the group jumping to protest loudly. The first boy spoke over them.

“Go on then. What’d you think? What’re Arsenal’s chances?”

Harry gulped. He wasn’t too knowledgeable of football, as Uncle Vernon made it his mission to constantly go on about how “the whole bloody thing is rowdy” in his childhood, preferring to watch golf. He picked his mind for knowledge, and said the first thing that he remembered about it.

“I dunno, I think Chelsea’s got a pretty good chance this year.” he said.

The whole group stared at him confusedly, except one guy who said “Alright!” and insisted on high-fiving Harry. As Harry walked away, he heard one of the boys going “They’re in eighth place! You Chelsea fans, flipping delusional…”

Harry ordered his drink and was careful to avoid getting sucked into drunken conversations as he made his way back to the window. He found Sadie standing there, staring at him with the same mysterious smile she always had. He found that her smile reminded him of when Sirius would smile at him, back at Grimmauld Place. The same sad smile that didn’t dare betray real emotion.

“Not much of a football fan, huh?” she said. She opened her pack of cigarettes, taking one out and offering him one. Harry said yes, to his own surprise, and put it in his mouth as she lit it for him. Harry knew he had to find out if she was a witch, and this was the perfect time. He oddly didn’t feel nervous, and suspected the alcohol was having an effect on him.

“So where’d you go for secondary school?” he asked innocently. He would’ve noticed her at Hogwarts, so that was a no… but maybe Beauxbatons? She gave him an odd look, and Harry kicked himself, realizing that maybe it was a weird question.

“St. Mary’s. In Finchley.” she replied. “You?”

“Military academy.” he said quickly, not looking at her. So she wasn’t a witch. Unless she was lying, but she sounded genuine. He made a mental note to ask Fleur if she’d ever met a girl named Sadie at her school.

“Wow. Tough.” she replied. Harry looked at her, but found her looking quite distractedly out the window. His gaze traveled to her hand, which was lightly caressing a heart locket attached to a necklace above her chest. She stopped and put her hand down quickly as she caught his gaze.

Dudley and Heather finally returned with more drinks for the group. Harry hadn’t even noticed his drink being empty, but was happy to drink more. As he looked around he saw that the party had become significantly more crowded and hectic. People were now quite obviously drunk, dancing and talking loudly.

“Never been to one of these, have you?” asked Sadie amusedly. Harry thought his surprise at the state of people around him must’ve registered on his face. Sure, he’d been to parties in the Gryffindor common room after a game, but it was only butterbeer and adrenaline there, none of what he was seeing right now.

“Not really.” he admitted. “Quite the experience.” he added, sipping more of his drink. As he looked at her, he thought she looked even prettier than before. She raised her eyebrows at him, so Harry coughed and went back to looking around.

“Sadie. Sadie!” exclaimed Heather, grabbing her friends hand. Her and Dudley had been so enthralled in their own conversations that Harry kept forgetting they were there. He watched as Sadie looked confused for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows. Heather looked at her expectedly, grinning. Moments later, Sadie had covered her mouth with her hand, breaking out into a grin. It was the first time Harry had seen her actually smile.

“Its our song!” she cried, as Heather ran and dragged Sadie by hand into the crowd.

Harry listened to the song for a few seconds, seeing if he could recognize it, or at least the artist. He could hear heavy electric guitars and a male voice singing over them, but it bore no recognition to him. He wondered when he had fallen so out of touch with muggle culture. Even Sirius, a pureblood, had had a motorbike, muggle band posters…

Harry looked at the crowd, deep in thought, and spotted Sadie and Heather. The two were laughing and moving side to side. He watched as Sadie turned around on herself and threw her arms around Heather’s shoulders. He watched her lips move, singing the song lyrics —

“Harry.” said Dudley seriously, surprising Harry. Harry jumped and looked at him, and picked up on the fact that he, too was standing with his back leaning on the wall, looking in Heather and Sadie’s direction. He had a sickly expression on his face.

“Yeah?” he asked slowly. The boy turned to him.

“We- we need to talk Harry. About… us. I-I can’t keep this in any more. I was a twat, Harry… a bully. I should’ve treated you better. My parents, they, they _poisoned_ me -”

Harry watched, horrified, as Dudley made his monologue, slurring his words and hiccuping in between.

“Hey, Dudley. Dud- Dudley!” he shook the bigger boy, who looked at him in shock, as if he couldn’t believe that Harry was stopping him.

“You don’t understand! I couldn’t- I can’t stop thinking about it, everything you’ve gone through… you’re ten times the man I’ll ever be, Harry. I can’t even look at my parents anymore. I never told you, but when the dementors came, and you saved me. What I saw. I saw myself, Ha —” the boy stopped abruptly, as Harry had given him a slap on the face. They stared at each other.

“Dudley, you _cannot_ talk about dementors here. Look around you.” Harry hissed, and the boy did as told. A couple of people near them had stopped to stare.

“We’ll… we’ll get tea, or dinner, and we’ll talk. One of these days. Okay? Just not here.” he finished softly, letting go of his tight grip on his cousin’s shoulders. Dudley looked embarrassed for a few seconds, then nodded nervously.

Harry’s heart was pounding, and he finally registered how drunk he was. He wondered when would be a good time to leave the party. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was almost 2am. The song had ended, and Sadie and Heather walked back to the two boys, unaware of what had just happened between them, a happy glow on their faces.

Sadie made her way back to her spot on the window, pulling out another cigarette.

“Don’t you just love Pearl Jam?” she said in her quiet voice, a dreamy look in her eyes. Harry had a feeling she wasn’t expecting an answer.

“Fag?” she then asked him, gesturing to her pack of cigarettes. Harry accepted again.

“I’ll have to chip in for those. This must be my fourth one, already.” he said, calming down from his exchange with Dudley.

“Don’t worry about it.” she smiled. She looked at him curiously, almost playfully.

“Hey, do you mind walking me home again? I think these two are leaving together, Dudley’s in no state to go to his.” she said. Her intense look was almost studying him.

“Yeah. Of course.” said Harry quickly, _too quickly_ , he thought.

She smiled appreciatively, and the two finished their cigarettes silently. Harry thought that he himself was hardly in a state to walk home right now, and was thankful for the fact that he could apparate back after dropping off Sadie.

The time came to leave, and the four made their way out of the flat. Sadie seemed the least intoxicated, with Dudley being the most as he almost limped out of there. They stepped out into the cold night.

“Alright, luckily I’m not far from here so _this_ one can crash at mine.” said Heather. Harry felt rather bad for her, maybe taking his cousin home should be his responsibility… he wondered how Petunia and Vernon would react to seeing Harry after almost a year and a half, dropping off his intoxicated cousin… He somehow thought that a better option than having a sleepover with Dudley.

“I can take him to his place, Heather. It’d be no trouble.” Harry forced himself to say. Heather exchanged a quick glance with Sadie.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that! His car is parked on my street anyway, so it’d be easier for everyone. Plus, I’m only like, two minutes from here.” she insisted.

“At least let us walk you to yours Heather. You’re not sober either. I’ll feel better.” said Sadie calmly. Heather nodded, and the four of them started heading towards Heather’s house. Harry amusedly wondered what would happen if someone he knew saw him walking around London at 2am with three drunk muggles.

They soon reached Heather’s house and said their goodbyes to Heather, who warmly hugged both of them, and to Dudley who merely grunted. Harry and Sadie watched the two of them go inside, and silently started to walk away. They were silent for a few minutes, and Harry found that the walk was sobering him up a bit.

“I think Heather likes your cousin, you know.” said Sadie. “I mean, I only met her last month, but I can tell.”

Harry found that the more time he spent with Sadie, the more she actually talked, and was pleased at the difference from the first time he met her.

“You seem to be able to ‘just tell’ things a lot.” mused Harry.

“Well, I was right about your cousin, wasn’t I?” she said easily. Harry looked at her.

“What do you mean…” he said slowly, surveying her.

“I mean, he sure had a lot to say to you earlier.” she said indifferently. Harry froze, and Sadie followed suit, looking at him in confusion. Harry found that her casual bluntness almost reminded him of Luna.

“What did you hear?” he said seriously. If she had heard… and didn’t have a reaction to the dementors… was she trying to tell him she was a witch? He was quickly disproved.

“I didn’t hear anything, Harry. I was 10 feet away. I just looked over and saw you — what was going on.” she said, and Harry spotted a hint of irritation in her voice. She resumed walking and he quickly caught up with her.

“Sorry.” he said, feeling that his reaction had upset her. “It’s just family matters, you know?” he finished hopefully.

Sadie’s face softened up and nodded.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve never seen Dudley like or even talk about a girl. This is definitely a big deal.” said Harry.

Sadie gave him a curious look.

“Well… what about you?” she asked him after a while, her voice more silent than ever, turning to look straight ahead of her. Harry’s heart skipped a beat.

“I, er, I’m not seeing anyone, no.” he said. “And you?” he pushed himself to ask, however it sounded more like he had just choked.

“Yeah, me neither.” she said, seemingly indifferent to his reaction. “I don’t really know too many people, to be honest.”

Harry thought that he could’ve related a few years ago, but recently found that he knew _too_ many people. Every day at the ministry he had several people greet him, Dumbledore’s Army kept regular correspondence with him, the Weasleys, Teddy… yet they all felt so distant lately.

“Well that’s surprising.” he said honestly, and silently cursed himself for forgetting he _was_ still drunk and being too bold.

“Why?” asked Sadie, with a tone of genuine curiosity.

“Well, you know. I mean?” he tried to answer, and Sadie raised her eyebrows.

“You’re - uh, very nice.” he finally answered, briefly wishing he had read that _Charming Witches_ book that Ron had gave him.

“Well, thank you.” she said. They approached her apartment building.

“It was nice seeing you Harry.” she said, smiling. She didn’t go immediately inside though, and stood there watching him.

“Yeah, you too. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.” he said, but it came out more like a question.

“That would be nice.” she smiled, and to his surprise, she hugged him. Harry put his arms around her waist and found his face was right in her wavy, brown hair. It smelled like strawberries… they pulled apart after a few seconds.

“Bye now.” she smiled, opening the front door and walking inside. Harry watched her until she went up the stairs and disappeared out of sight. He could hardly believe himself, his heart pounding from a _hug_ … he felt pathetic, fourteen again. Not even Ginny had made him feel this nervous. Although he _had_ known her for a long time by that point… this was different, this was new. He snapped out of his thoughts and realized that he was looking right at the different buzzers for the flats. He quickly scanned for Sadie’s name and there it was… _Sadie Atwood, Flat 8._ He softly ran his finger over the buzzer, withdrew his hand, and apparated home.


	5. Dinner at the Weasleys

Harry abruptly awoke to the sound of tapping on his window. He shot up and almost immediately lay back down. His head was pounding and he felt so nauseous he could hardly stand up. Finally, not being able to withstand the sound of the owl tapping on his window anymore, he painfully got up and opened it. The owl dropped off the letter on his table, and propped itself on the table, staring at Harry expectantly. As Harry picked up the letter, he noticed it had a ministry seal on it. He quickly ripped it open.

_Mr. Harry Potter,_

_I would like to have a meeting with you on Friday, November 2nd at 11am._

_Please answer back with confirmation immediately._

_Sincerely,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic_

Harry stared at the letter for a few seconds, wondering why Kingsley wanted to have a meeting with him. He quickly scribbled a response on some parchment, and tied it to the owl, who flew out of his living room right after. Harry stared after it and briefly thought that it might be time to get his own owl… he felt a painful pang to his stomach as he thought of Hedwig and how it’d feel like a betrayal of her. Deciding to think about it another time, he looked at his watch, and to his horror noticed that it was already 4pm. How had he slept in this late? Realizing he only had about two hours to get ready and arrive at the Weasleys, he quickly began to get ready and decided to ignore his crippling headache and nausea.

Almost two hours later, Harry wasn’t feeling any better but was ready to apparate to the Burrow. He looked around, making sure he had everything, and rapidly apparated right outside the Burrow. With the security measures lifted on the Burrow since the fall of Voldemort, Harry was very thankful for not having to make the long walk from the top of the hill anymore. He walked to the front door, knocked, and was greeted by Mrs. Weasley. She immediately gave him a suffocating hug, and ushered him into the house, almost in tears.

“My boy, Harry… how are you? Are you eating okay? Gosh I wish you hadn’t moved to that - to that _flat_!” she said, with disgust on her face at the last word, as if moving away was the worst thing Harry could’ve ever done.

“Come on now Molly, leave the poor boy alone.” said Mr Weasley, who gave Harry a huge smile.

Harry greeted everyone, and was surprised to see that almost the entire family was there. George, Percy, Bill, Fleur and Ron all warmly greeted him as he made his way to an empty chair at the table.

“We’re just waiting on Andromeda and Teddy, Harry.” said Mrs. Weasley, as she poured him pumpkin juice.

“How’s the ministry going for you, son?” asked Mr Weasley.

“Better than it’s going for Ron, I hope.” said George, rolling his eyes. “If I have to hear him come home complaining about the job one more time, I’ll have to cut my other ear off.” he said, and Harry and Bill laughed loudly.

“Funny, George.” said Ron, dryly. “You just wait till I move out of here, you’ll be missing my complaining!”

“EXCUSE ME?” bellowed Mrs Weasley, staring at Ron incredulously. “You - are - not - going - _anywhere_! It’s already bad enough I let Harry leave!”

“But mum, when Hermione gets out of Hogwarts, we’ll want to - ”

“Nonsense!” interrupted Mrs Weasley. “You are both _far_ too young, Ronald Weasley. I will not be hearing of this any more.”

Ron knew to stay silent after that, and as she left the room, Harry heard her muttering, “ _Already didn’t get his NEWTS…”_

George was snickering at Ron, who gloomily looked down at the table. Harry fought his urge to smile, diverting his attention back to Mr. Weasley.

“The ministry’s going alright, Mr. Weasley. I guess when they invited us to start the auror program early, Ron and I expected to _actually_ start doing auror work, you know? Not just doing paperwork all day…” he trailed off, not wanting to sound ungrateful.

“You boys have to understand that you are still in training.” said Mr. Weasley. “Just wait it out, they’ll have some field work for you soon.”

“Right, because after fighting You-Know-Who first hand we need even more training.” muttered Ron irritably.

“Don’t get too cocky, son. I’m sure Williams knows what he’s doing.” finished Mr. Weasley, with a tone that indicated the conversation was over. Harry, however, spoke again.

“Mr. Weasley, I got a note from Kingsley earlier, asking for a meeting with me on Friday. Do you have any clue what that’s about?” he asked, and saw both Ron and Percy’s head perk up.

“Well, I think I have an idea of it, but you’ll have to find out from Kingsley himself.” said Mr. Weasley with a small smile. Harry nodded in understanding.

“Bloody hell, as if one Percy wasn’t enough, now we’ve got _four_ of him.” said George, with an exaggerated sigh. Everyone laughed.

Harry started chatting with Ron and Bill, and a few minutes later Mrs. Weasley walked in, with Andromeda Tonks and little Teddy alongside her. Everyone rose up and crowded around the baby, while affectionately greeting Andromeda. Harry pulled out a chair for her right next to his own, and as she sat she handed Teddy to Harry, who cautiously put the baby in his lap. Even though it had only been a few weeks since Harry had last seen Teddy, the baby had gotten significantly bigger already. Teddy gave Harry a wide smile, and said “a-ee!”. Harry grinned at him as Teddy’s hair went from blonde to black, matching Harry’s.

“Well, we’re all ready to eat, aren’t we?” said Mrs. Weasley, and everyone agreed. Fleur got up to help Mrs. Weasley set the food on the table.

As Harry devoured Mrs. Weasley’s delicious cooking, he considered that maybe Ron was right when he said he had been isolating himself. No one had brought up Ginny to him, and everyone seemed to finally be moving on from losing Fred. Even as Harry looked at Teddy, he realized he didn’t feel as much of the guilt over Remus and Tonks deaths’ as he did before, a feeling that had consumed him for months. Mrs. Weasley seemed to have caught on to his thoughts.

“We’ve missed you, dear.” she said quietly, so that only he and Andromeda, and Mr. Weasley could hear. “You’ve been part of our family for years. That won’t ever stop.”

Harry felt his stomach sink a bit. “Thank you Mrs. Weasley.” he said weakly.

“It’s about time you started calling me Molly isn’t it?” Mrs. Weasley said with a smile.

“And Arthur.” interjected Mr. Weasley. A silence ensued between all of them.

“I hope you’re not still blaming yourself for everything that happened. It was never about you, son. It was about saving our kind from evil. The people who lost their lives that day, they did it for their families and their people.” said Andromeda proudly, looking at Harry with kind, almost pitying eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley nodded in agreement.

Harry felt himself tear up a bit, and he cleared his throat, wishing the conversation would end.

“I— I appreciate that, Arthur, Molly, Andromeda. Thank you.” he said.

Everyone had finished their food and Harry was helping Mrs. Weasley clear up the table. Harry found Andromeda sitting near Bill and Fleur, the latter playing with Teddy. He walked up to them and struck up a conversation with Bill.

“I won’t lie, Harry. They’re not too happy with you.” said Bill, smiling.

“Zat ees ridiculous.” said Fleur, shaking her head. “Zey broke een to help defeat Voldemort! ‘Ow can zey be upset wiz him?”

“Well, they broke the law!” interjected Percy indignantly. “I’m sorry Harry, I know it was for a good purpose, but you can’t blame them for being angry.”

“Frankly, they don’t care about the _why_. Good wizards, evil wizards, we’re all the same to goblins. They’re furious with the Ministry for not charging you three for it.” said Bill, looking at Harry and Ron.

“Couldn’t Griphook put in a good word for us?” said Ron desperately. “He was well impressed with Harry, calling him an unusual wizard and all!”

“The same Griphook who had the Sword of Gryffindor disappear right out of his hands? I wouldn’t count on him doing you any favors, Ron.” said George.

“Don’t even remind me of zat _thing_! ‘E was ‘orrible.” exclaimed Fleur in disgust.

“I couldn’t care less about what Griphook or any of those goblins think. They’re cowards.” spat Harry.

As Harry watched Fleur play with Teddy, he had a sudden idea strike him, and he took advantage of the silence that had followed his angry retort.

“Fleur.” he said eagerly. She faced him. “You wouldn’t happen to have met a girl named Sadie Atwood at Beauxbatons, by any chance? She would’ve been a fourth or fifth year when you graduated?”

She looked thoughtful for a few seconds. “Hmm. I knew everyone at Beauxbatons ‘Arry, and I never met a Sadie Atvud. Also zat sounds like an English name, vould she not ‘ave been at ‘Ogwarts?”

“I see.” said Harry, frowning. “I’ll have to check.”

“There definitely wasn’t a Sadie Atwood at Hogwarts, Harry.” said Ron, who looked perplexed. “Is this auror business or something?”

“No, no. Just a personal thing.” said Harry quickly.

Teddy made a sound, which made everyone turn to him in delight and forget the conversation. Ron, however, was still looking at Harry. Harry pretended to not see, as he also joined in to play with Teddy.

After a while, Andromeda got ready to leave, and Harry took that as his call to leave too. He started saying his goodbyes to everyone.

“Oh, Harry are you _sure_ you can’t stay the night?” cried Mrs. Weasley. “Just stay in your old bed, with Ron. You boys can go to work with Arthur and Percy in the morning.”

“I appreciate it, Mrs. - er - Molly. I have my work clothes at home though, and I have to write an important letter.” Harry said, feeling instantly ashamed for having lied about the letter.

“Well, alright then. You better come again soon though. I’ll have no excuses!” she said.

Harry nodded as he finished saying goodbye to everyone. He left the Burrow with a heavy heart.


	6. October 31st

October 31st was an especially cold day. Harry had gotten the day off, despite insisting that he didn’t need it, but Williams had said that it was “frankly ridiculous that you’re the only one to not have had any time off yet.”

Harry had spent the morning in Godric’s Hollow, and he suspected that the date was the reason that Williams had given him the day off. This had been his first time visiting his parents grave since he had gone with Hermione last Christmas.

“17 years.” he said quietly, as he lay flowers in front of his parents graves. He stood there for a while, staring at them, talking to them in his head. He left the graveyard after making sure to leave flowers at the Dumbledores’ graves too. As he made the walk to his first ever house, he found that he wasn’t the only one commemorating his parents that day. Several people were standing by his family’s statue, the house where his parents had died, and their graves, although they awkwardly walked off when they saw Harry walk into the graveyard. He was getting a lot of stares, and he angrily wondered if he’d have to deal with this every anniversary of their death. He eventually walked into a wizarding pub to get a quick drink before leaving, but someone had alerted the press of his presence, and he quickly apparated back to London after he found journalists taking sneaky photos of him and asking him “how he was feeling on this tragic day.”

He wandered around the streets of London that afternoon, thinking about what he could do. Most of his friends were still at Hogwarts, and Ron was working. The only pleasure Harry had gotten in getting the time off was a day away from Ron, who had spent the past two days driving Harry crazy with questions about who Sadie Atwood was. Harry had avoided revealing the truth, insisting that he had just been curious about a random person, but Ron didn’t seem to be buying it. Harry considered visiting Andromeda or even Hagrid, but thought it rude to walk in to their houses without having made prior arrangements.

He finally decided to just go home and walked to his neighborhood. Something on the way, however, had caught his attention. He saw a music store, and thought it maybe a good idea to look into finding some new music, keeping to his personal promise to be a little more involved in muggle culture.

He walked into the warm, inviting store, which was filled with records and CDs. Harry didn’t even know where to start. He walked to the rock section, after remembering the music he had heard blasting at the party the other night. He looked at the different bands and spotted Pearl Jam, the band he had heard Sadie talk about that night, and picked out a disk. He turned it around and looked at the song list.

“Fancy seeing you here.” said a voice from behind him.

Harry turned around and there stood Sadie, smiling at him. Harry found himself wishing he could sink into the earth, as he tried to hide the CD he was holding.

“What - what are you doing here?” he asked incredulously, unintentionally coming off as rather rude.

“Er, I live here, Harry. Remember?” she said.

Harry stupidly remembered that although he was in his neighborhood, he was also in Sadie’s. They only lived five minutes from each other.

“Right. Right, sorry. You just scared me.” he replied sheepishly.

“I mean, I’ll be honest. I’ve been following you for days, tracking your every move. I’m a keen stalker, you know?” she said, her classic mysterious smile back on her face.

“You know what? I _knew_ I felt someone staring at me the whole walk home yesterday.” he joked back. Sadie walked closer to him, and took the CD out of his hands. Harry felt himself going red, and briefly thought about quickly making a run for it out of the store, or maybe obliviating his entire existence from her mind…

“So, Pearl Jam, huh? You’re a fan?” she said innocently, but her look was all but innocent.

“I was just, looking, you know? Seeing different things, artists.” he said quickly.

“I mean, I’m disappointed.” she looked at him and shook her head, “CDs? I can’t respect you if you listen to these things. I’m a record player girl, myself.” she finished, with faux disappointment in her voice.

“I don’t actually, uh, own anything.” said Harry sheepishly. _Good job_ he thought to himself. _Way to come off as a freak._

Sadie stared at him for a few seconds, but when she realized he wasn’t joking, she broke out into a grin.

“You’re a weird guy, Harry, but this is good. This means you’re a clean slate!” she exclaimed. “Now come on over to the dark side.” she said, and walked away.

Harry stood after her for a few moments, before following her. They made their way to the other side of the store, which contained larger, square objects which Harry recognized as records. The Dursleys had nothing of this kind in their house, but he knew enough from the little bit of TV he’d watched growing up.

Harry stared at the collection of records before him. Where would he even start? He was eager to not embarrass himself in front of her, but didn’t have a clue what any of it meant.

“I know it can look a little intimidating.” said Sadie, looking at him. Was she reading his mind? “Just pick something that stands out to you, and I’ll try to teach you a bit. This is the classic rock section.” she said encouragingly.

Harry felt immediately relieved by the fact that she wasn’t trying to embarrass or laugh at him, but genuinely wanted to be of help. He stared at all the vinyls in front of him, and his eyes landed on one specific one. It was an all white record, with one small black bit of writing on it. Feeling drawn to it, he picked it up and read the front of it.

_The Beatles_

He looked at Sadie, waiting for her to help him a bit, but she just stared at him, her expression unreadable.

“Is this a joke? So you do know this stuff, then?” she said, a little irritably. “Nothing wrong with that but, you didn’t have to _lie_.” she finished.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “What? What on earth would I be lying about?” he said, offended. She looked at him some more, as if she were trying to decipher if he was lying or not.

“Wow. You’re… you’re not lying. It’s just an odd coincidence. Very strange.” she said, deep in thought. Harry looked at her in confusion. “Well, turn it around, and look at the songs on Side B.” she added, after seeing his perplexed expression.

Harry did just so, and his eyes landed on a song called _Sexy Sadie._ He couldn’t help but grin when he looked at her.

“Sexy Sadie?” he asked. It was her turn to look sheepish.

“You have to promise to not laugh, but… my parents named me after that song. That’s why it’s a bizarre coincidence — hey! I said not to laugh!” she cried, giving him a slap on the chest, but it was too late, as Harry had burst out into laughter.

“They named you after a song called _Sexy Sadie?_ That’s just wrong!” he cried.

“Listen, it’s a good song! And it’s got a good meaning behind it — nothing to do with — stop laughing! It’s not my fault my parents were hippies.” she said, with a cute desperation in her voice. _Cute?_ asked Harry to himself, questioning his own thoughts as he calmed down.

“Hippies?” he asked her confusedly, after registering what she’d said.

“Yeah… hippies…” she said slowly. “You know, peace and love, Woodstock? Nothing?” she said incredulously, as Harry shook his head. “I’ve already told you you’re a weird guy, right?”

Harry cleared his throat. “My aunt and uncle aren’t really into music, or, uh, anything at all, to be honest. And I wasn’t really in the loop at military school.” he said convincingly. Sadie nodded in understanding.

“Well, honestly, it’s a good album, it’s - er - it was my mum’s favorite. Although mine is _Rubber Soul_ from them, big family disagreement, that.” she said awkwardly, staring intensely at the records. Harry thought about the “was” for a few moments, and considered asking about it, before remembering his own experience at Godric’s Hollow that morning, and how the last thing he had wanted to do was talk about his dead parents.

“Well aren’t you gonna show me anything else?” he asked to break the tension. She gave him a mischievous smile.

“Absolutely. So that Pearl Jam CD you were holding, let’s find the record for it.” she said, and together they walked to the _Grunge_ corner of the store. She found it and handed it to him. It was called _Ten._ Harry admired the picture on the cover.

“Did you like the Pearl Jam song they played at the party? When Heather and I got up to dance?” she asked him. Harry thought about it for a few moments.

“Yeah, I thought it was good.” he answered truthfully.

“Well, that one’s called Black. It’s on that album.” she answered. Harry stood looking at the different records in amazement. He thought about all the music he didn’t know about, that he was ready to explore, in excitement. All this stuff he hadn’t discovered yet, that he’d had no time to think about in his teenage years, too busy worrying about him and his friends’ deaths… he felt a surge of anger toward Voldemort, for not only stripping him of a family and childhood, but of a normal adolescence. However, overpowering that feeling was an excitement that consumed him. He hadn’t come to terms with the fact that he now had his life ahead of him, and was _normal_ again. There was still so much to discover for the first time, and all the records in front of him were an example of that. He briefly closed his eyes and listened to the song playing over the speaker, and thought that he liked it.

“Are you okay?” asked Sadie softly, looking at him. He smiled at her.

“Yeah, yeah. I was wondering what song is playing right now.” he said.

She listened for a few moments, concentrating. “This one’s The Man Who Sold The World, by David Bowie. Nirvana’s got a good version of it, but I personally think this one’s better. That’s a controversial opinion, though.” she said.

“You really know your stuff.” he said. She was silent for a few seconds.

“This is what I love. Music, movies, books, art. I like to immerse myself in it.” she finally answered. Harry looked at her, as he felt a rush of emotion take over him, though he didn’t know what.

“Well, can I buy it?” he asked.

“It’s 1998, Harry. You can buy whatever the hell you want.” she replied, and gestured for him to follow her. She looked for the record in question, and handed it to him when she found it. Harry found himself watching her every move.

“I’ve heard of that before, Nirvana. They any good?” he asked her. He had seen something about it in the news, years before, before Uncle Vernon had changed the channel, angrily muttering _who cares about a degenerate offing himself?_

“They’re bloody fantastic, yeah. They’re back in the Grunge section. I recommend you start with Nevermind or my personal favorite, MTV Unplugged.” she answered.

They walked back to the _Grunge_ section, where Harry told her he wanted to buy both. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but smiled and found them for him.

“I think I’ll just take these for today. Give them a listen and figure out my taste.” he told her, getting ready to walk to the till.

“Hold on a minute, Harry.” she said. He turned around.

“You’re going to need a record player to listen to those.” she said with a grin.

Harry picked out a record player after Sadie explained to him the strengths and weaknesses of each one. Harry just went with whichever one Sadie said was best, as he found himself too busy having an internal struggle over his feelings for her. He decided to finally acknowledge that he liked Sadie. No, he fancied her. He was quite certain at this point that she was a muggle, but he’d enjoyed her company more than any girl before, even Ginny, who at one point Harry was quite certain was his soulmate… what did all this mean? All he knew was that he wanted to spend more time with her, getting to know her… he constantly found himself staring at her lips, the way her hair moved when she moved… He felt like a different person around her, a better person. But did she like him, or was she simply being friendly? What if he did make a move and found himself rejected, a flourishing friendship ruined?

He went to the till, internally thanking himself for converting some muggle money earlier that day. Sadie paid after him, as she had bought a record herself. They walked out of the store, finding that it had gone rather dark.

“Well, that’s my call.” she said, looking up into the dark sky while grimacing.

“Oh - are you busy this evening?” Harry asked her, not wanting to split with her already.

“I’ve got a bunch of homework to do. I only wanted to spend like twenty minutes here. I had a great time though.” she said, smiling at him.

“I’ll walk you home.” he said. She nodded, and together they made the walk to her house. On the way there, Sadie explained to him the workings of the record player and how to piece it together, and sooner than Harry would’ve liked, they were back at her place. Harry barely paid attention to her instructions on how to work the record player, as he had spent the entire walk working up the courage to ask her out. He wondered if it was too soon, but knew he couldn’t count on another chance encounter, and didn’t want to waste the opportunity he’d gotten that day.

“This is me.” she said as they walked up to her front door. Harry took a deep breath.

“Sadie, uh, before you go. I was wondering if you’d want to go out some time.” he finally asked her. There were a few seconds of torturous silence between them, as Harry stared at the wall behind her, His heart was racing, his gut felt like it was being squeezed…

“Yeah, I’d love to.” she said softly. He looked at her and she wasn’t smiling, but rather looking at him with an unreadable expression.

“Great. I’ll - er - I’ll send you a note one of these days.” he said awkwardly. Sadie didn’t reply to him, but simply pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back, this one a little longer than the last one, smelling the familiar smell of strawberries. They let go.

“I’ll see you soon.” she said, before going inside. Harry yet again watched her go up the stairs before disapparating.


	7. A Meeting with Kingsley

It was 10:55am on Friday, and Harry let Williams know that he had a meeting scheduled with Kingsley, before making his way to the Minister’s office. He spent the walk wondering what Kingsley would call him in for, trying to guess the reason for it. As he realized he didn’t have a logical conclusion to be called in, he found himself in front of his office, and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” said a deep voice from inside the room.

“Harry Potter, sir.”

“Come on in.” replied the minister.

Harry went in and shook Kingsley’s hand, before sitting down in front of him. His office was of the most grandiose places Harry had been in the magical world, and he looked around him for several moments, taking it all in. He found that it shared many things in common with the headmaster’s office at Hogwarts, with different magical ornaments and trinkets coating every surface. There were paintings all covering the walls, which Harry assumed were of previous ministers of magic. There was an overwhelming chorus of, “Harry Potter!” and “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter.” surrounding him, and several portraits were clapping. Harry, however, found himself staring right into Rufus Scrimgeour’s eyes. The two simply nodded at each other.

“Silence, please.” said Kingsley, raising a hand. The portraits went quiet, but Harry felt all of their eyes on him.

“How are you, Harry?” said Kingsley, a smile taking over his hard features.

“I’m alright sir, and you?” said Harry back.

“Good, good. Now, a little bird told me that you and Mr. Weasley aren’t too content with the work you’re being assigned.” said Kingsley, with the same friendly tone as before. Harry blushed.

“No sir, we’re very grateful to have been recruited.”

Kingsley looked at him, as if urging him to say more.

“Alright, we just thought we’d be… _busier_. We understand if this is the work you need done right now, but we are more than ready, and willing, to fight and catch people if you need that instead. That’s all.” Harry added seriously. He heard a portrait wolf-whistle, and another go “Spoken like a true Gryffindor!”

“I hear you, Harry, and that’s what I wanted to hear. I have a job for you and Ron Weasley. That’s why I called you in.” said the minister. Harry’s heart skipped a beat.

“What does this job involve, sir?” asked Harry eagerly.

“This is… serious stuff, Harry. You must not tell anyone but Ron. Only very few Order of the Phoenix members know about this. Do you understand?” said Kingsley strictly, and Harry nodded. “Good. We’ve heard some unconfirmed rumors that an English wizard has taken up residence in Poland, and has taken Lord Voldemort’s story as… inspiration. You know, this is precisely why Dumbledore didn’t want the stuff about horcruxes getting out.” said Kingsley disappointedly, shaking his head. Harry shuddered.

“You think he’s - he’s made a horcrux?” said Harry, just about managing to mask his shock and horror.

“I don’t think he’s made one yet, Harry. We don’t think he’s powerful enough. He sounds like an idiot sympathizer who wants some glory and fame for himself. In any case, he needs to be stopped and you and Weasley have experience with this. Williams will be joining you, along with another older auror. That’s if, of course, you accept the assignment.” said Kingsley, who stared at Harry dead in the eyes.

“There’s no doubt about it, sir. I’m sure Ron will want to come, too. We’ll get him.” said Harry immediately and meaningfully. A few portraits clapped and whistled again, and Harry gave Scrimgeour a quick glance, who was sporting a small smile.

“Brilliant, Harry. Williams will give you the run-through himself, but I wanted to tell you this personally. Good luck.”

Harry stood up to leave, but something pulled him back down on to the chair. Kingsley, who had started reading something on his desk, looked up at Harry expectantly. Harry was shocked that this even came to mind after hearing what he had just heard, but getting a meeting with the minister was hard, and he just had to ask.

“I have a question, sir. Its - er - unrelated to the topic at hand. Kind of a personal thing” said Harry.

“Let’s hear it.” said Kingsley. He picked up on Harry’s hesitance. “After being members of the Order together, you should know that this acquaintance extends far beyond just being colleagues.”

Harry felt touched at that statement, which made asking the next thing easier.

“I was wondering what the… what the regulations are, for telling muggles about magic.” said Harry, slowly. He studied Kingsley’s reaction, who seemed to be trying to hide a smirk.

“So, I take it a muggle girl has caught your attention?” he asked him. Harry gave a small nod, to which Kingsley chuckled.

“You normally have to get special permission, and a review of the case, this can take from anywhere up to two weeks. Luckily for you, you’re on a first name basis with the minister himself.” Kingsley gave Harry a look, which he interpreted as a _don’t mess this up_ look. “I trust that you’ll make a smart choice in trusting this girl, but you should know that if the two of you are to break up, it’s strongly encouraged that you obliviate her knowledge of magic, or provide definitive proof that she’ll keep the secret.” Kingsley finished. Harry nodded, taking it all in.

“Thank you Kingsley. For everything.” he said sincerely, thinking he had never really thanked Kingsley for putting his life at risk for him, back in the days of the Order. Kingsley nodded at him.

The two shook hands, and Harry exited his office, his mind racing, he was so deep in thought that he failed to realize that two ministry officials had greeted him. He kept thinking about the mission Kingsley had talked about. He felt stupid for not considering this before… of course other wizards would try to do what Voldemort did, idiots, no doubt, with no real knowledge of the dark magic they were playing with… if one succeeded, they could have another war on their hands… Harry wondered if he had been taking everything too lightly since their victory, and felt downright idiotic. It was far from over, there were still some death eaters at large, and like Kingsley said, sympathizers who would take inspiration from what Voldemort had done. Of course he wouldn’t have expected anything like this, he thought, after being stuck filling out stupid papers for two months… His mind was stuck on what had happened after, as well as the mission. Harry kept asking himself why he’d even asked Kingsley about telling muggles about magic, but had to admit to himself that he had spent the past two days fantasizing about a serious relationship with Sadie, and was seriously thinking about the possibility of telling her about him. He felt like his head was going to explode.

He waited for his lunch break, almost counting down the seconds to get to relay all the information he’d received to Ron. He finally caught up with him after an excruciating hour of waiting.

Harry cast a muffliato charm and told Ron everything Kingsley had told him about the dark wizard in Poland, including his own thoughts about the situation. Ron sat staring into the distance for about half a minute after Harry had finished.

“Bloody hell.” he said weakly. “Bloody hell Harry, I thought this stuff was over.”

“Me too. I was an idiot… I spent years thinking Voldemort was the only dark wizard to exist, of course there are others wanting to take his spot. He was just the worst of the worst but there are others. Especially now when it’s all so fresh.” said Harry seriously.

“You’ve got to cut yourself some slack, Harry. They’ve been sticking papers in our faces for months, of course we’d underestimate the situation. Remember what Mad-Eye looked like? He had the same job as us…” Ron seemed to realize the implications of what he’d said as he said it, and he shuddered. Harry looked at him.

“Are you - are you willing to take the job Ron?” asked Harry, wondering if maybe Ron had done his share of dark wizard fighting already.

Ron’s expression changed into a fierce one. “Yeah, I am. Fred didn’t die for nothing, Harry. Not for some other loser to take You-Know-Who’s place. This is our job now, we’re stopping these bastards, no matter what it takes. That’s what we signed up for.” finished Ron, and Harry grinned.

He felt relieved after talking to Ron about it and knowing that he wasn’t the only one sitting on this information, but unfortunately couldn’t get any relief from Ron on the situation with Sadie…

“What’d you do Wednesday, by the way? I never got to ask you.” said Ron while chewing down on his food. Harry had known this question was coming.

“I went to Godric’s Hollow, to see my parents’ graves.” replied Harry shortly.

“Oh yeah, I know that part. Saw it on the Daily Prophet. I mean, after that.” said Ron indifferently. Harry looked at him. What did he know?

“I was in Godric’s Hollow for a while.” replied Harry slowly.

“That’s not what the Prophet said.” Ron was giving him a look. “It said you left before midday, as soon as they showed up to interview you. I’m only asking because Bones saw you on Chester Road, just walking around.”

Harry mentally cursed those damned journalists, and made a mental note to read the article Ron was talking about, but knew he had to come somewhat clean.

“I ran into a friend at a shop, and just caught up with them.” said Harry enigmatically, hoping Ron would drop it.

“Them? You said ‘ _a_ friend’. As in one.” said Ron, evidently basking in his a-ha moment.

“Yeah, it was _a_ friend. Dudley’s friend, actually. I ran into her, we talked, and I went home. Nothing special to it.” said Harry, growing irritated at his friends’ inquisitiveness.

“Would this friend happen to be Sadie Atwood?” asked Ron innocently, taking another bite.

“Yeah, like I said one of Dudley’s friends. I only asked Fleur about her because I thought she might’ve been a witch, but turns out she’s just a muggle. You happy now?” said Harry, visibly irritated now.

“You seemed mighty interested in Fleur’s answer, almost like you were… disappointed.” Ron teased, but Harry stayed silent. “You know, I never did ask you how that party went.” he continued.

Harry recounted the party, leaving out almost everything involving Sadie. When he told Ron about Dudley’s outburst, Ron dropped the smug act and looked as horrified as Harry had been.

“If only I could go back in time to our days at Hogwarts and tell you you’d be getting drunk with your cousin in a few years.” laughed Ron, after Harry finished his almost accurate recount of the night. Harry laughed along with him at the incredibility of the situation.

“I think I believe him, though.” added Harry seriously, after a minute. “He seems different. Maybe there’s still a chance for him.”

“That’s cool and all.” said Ron, also coming down from his laughter. “But it doesn’t say anything about who Sadie is, does it?”

“She’s just a girl, Ron!” said Harry loudly, suddenly very irate.

He was grateful for the muffliato charm he had cast or he was sure that everyone would’ve been looking at them.

“Calm down, mate. I’m only asking because I know you well enough to know you like this girl. I could tell from the second you brought her up at the Burrow. Why do you think you can’t tell me, because of Ginny? I don’t care about that.” said Ron, calmly.

Harry felt embarrassed by his anger and calmed down.

“You’re right. I thought you’d be upset because of, you know, Ginny. There’s also just nothing to say yet, though. We haven’t even properly gone out and I don’t want to get ahead of myself. I just like her, but that’s it.” admitted Harry.

“Well have you asked her out?” asked Ron, only slightly smug this time.

“Yeah, but as an open invitation kind of thing. When that happens, I’ll tell you everything.” said Harry, denoting the end of the conversation. Ron nodded, but not before going,

“A muggle, Harry? Can’t say I’m not surprised, you know…”

They then began enthusiastically talking about the latest Chudley Cannons game as they made their way back to the office. The boys sat at their desks and Ron slid the Daily Prophet article from the day before across the desk to Harry, who saw a picture of himself on the front page smiling next to a child, right next to another picture of himself sitting at the bar, holding a glass of butterbeer.

“Don’t take any of it to heart, mate. You should know the game they’re playing, by now.” said Ron, before Harry began his read.

**POTTER MAKES EMOTIONAL VISIT TO GODRIC’S HOLLOW ON PARENTS’ DEATH ANNIVERSARY**

by Rita Skeeter

_Harry Potter spends the morning of the 31st of October looking visibly distraught, aimlessly walking around the town that brought him so much tragedy._

_The Auror department isn’t known to make many concessions to its employees for anniversary dates, or for days off in general, I’m told by many friends who work at the ministry. However, if you’re The-Boy-Who-Lived-Twice, I suppose there isn’t much you can ask for that you won’t get._

_Harry Potter allegedly spent the morning of the 31st of October looking visibly distraught as he made his way around Godric’s Hollow. The boy was said to visit the statue of him and his parents, their family home, and then Lily and James Potter’s graves. Several eyewitness accounts report that the young hero simply stared at his parents grave for about an hour. Who knows what could’ve been going through his head during all that time? Clearly some deep, dark thoughts, since he was reported as making his way straight to a pub, quite possibly to drown his sorrows, after spending some ten minutes signing autographs and taking pictures with children._

_It’s clear that the wizarding community has underestimated how much the tragic hero suffers from the implications of his sad past. For him to have to use his fame and power to force the Auror department to give him time off, so he could devote a morning to aimlessly walk around the town where everything was taken from him, looking evidently saddened and angry, to then go and get mindlessly drunk at a place frequented by families and children who look up to him, what can we assume?_

_Potter was also reported as leaving flowers for the family of the late Albus Dumbledore, a kind gesture, but dark nonetheless. As told in my book ‘The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore’, the relationship the two men had was very troubled indeed, and it says something of Harry’s character to leave flowers behind for Dumbledore’s mother and sister. Could this be a sign ofsolidarity for Dumbledore? Is it a sign of forgiveness, or carelessness for Dumbledore’s hand in the tragic deaths of his family? Maybe solidarity for his family, and a sign of rebellion against Dumbledore? This powerful gesture leaves a lot to question._

_We also have to wonder why The Chosen One was alone on such an important day. Where were his friends, his trustworthy but fundamentally jealous sidekick Ron Weasley, or his man-eater, know-it-all friend Hermione Granger? Possibly filling out their duties at school and work, while Harry skipped out on his responsibilities to drown his sorrows? Or have they left Harry to his own devices, maybe tired of his angsty and depressive tendencies?_

_Potter has been careful to stay out of the public eye since his victory against You-Know-Who, and this recent sighting only leaves us with more questions, as Potter quickly apparated out of Godric’s Hollow when our reporters approached him around midday. Where is Harry’s mind at right now? Can we trust Harry Potter, who allegedly spent 16 years of his life with part of Voldemort’s soul trapped inside him? Can we put our faith in this boy, who at only 17 had the power to defeat the darkest wizard of all time?_


	8. I Put a Spell on You

It was Monday evening, and Harry and Ron were making their way to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry had had a good weekend, spending his Saturday at the Burrow, playing quidditch with Ron and George, and his Sunday at home listening to the records that he and Sadie had bought. He went into work expectantly that morning, but Williams made no mention of their mission. Harry and Ron debated asking him themselves, but decided to wait a few days first. Harry felt growing frustration about it. If it were up to him, he thought, they would’ve left on Friday, as soon as he got wind of the situation. Why were they waiting around in London, twiddling their thumbs, when there was someone dabbling in dark magic thousands of miles away?

He and Ron made it inside the Leaky Cauldron. Harry felt thankful there were only a couple of other people there, who hadn’t paid attention to his and Ron’s arrival. Ron went to order butterbeers, while Harry made his way to a booth.

“They could be waiting for more information about it.” said Ron, putting their drinks down. Harry took a slow sip, thinking. Whenever the two had gotten a moment alone, they would conspire about the mission.

“I s’pose. I just wish they’d keep us more in the loop.” replied Harry.

“I won’t lie, Harry. Before you told me about this I was starting to regret not going back to Hogwarts. I kept thinking I would’ve rather spent the year with Hermione and gotten my NEWTS, than just sit around doing office work all day.” admitted Ron, who then looked at Harry expectantly, as if waiting for him to say “me too”.

Harry, however, couldn’t bring himself to agree with him. With Dumbledore gone and him and Ginny on bad terms, what would he have done at Hogwarts? Kept on going to Herbology and Potions, after spending a year on the run, after killing Voldemort, after _dying_? He couldn’t possibly have had a normal school year, with all the death eaters on the run on his mind, with seemingly the weight of the world on his shoulders… His mind was years past Hogwarts. He didn’t mention this to Ron though.

“I do miss Hagrid and Hermione.” he simply said.

Ron looked at him hopefully. “Y’know, we should go when we’re back from the mission. Visit Hagrid, we could tell Hermione, Neville and Luna to meet us there. Pop in to say hi to McGonagall too.” he said excitedly.

Harry liked the idea, but found himself feeling a bit sorry for Ron. He knew Ron had felt a responsibility to join the Auror force after Fred’s death, but also knew he would’ve greatly preferred to have his last year of fun at Hogwarts, playing quidditch, going to lessons and getting to finally properly be with Hermione.

“Yeah, we’ll do that. We’ll plan it when we’re back.” said Harry.

“Malfoy’s back there too, did you know that?” said Ron, darkly.

Harry was about to answer something along the lines of “good for him” but was stopped by someone walking up to their table. An overweight, long-haired wizard stood directly in front of their booth. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved or showered in months.

“Mind if I sit here, boys?” said the older man, who sat down next to Ron anyway before any of them could answer. Ron was grimacing at him.

“Uh, actually, mate -” started Ron, but was interrupted.

“Harry Potter.” interrupted the man, looking at Harry with a sinister smile. Harry slyly grabbed his wand from his coat pocket and held it in his hand under the table.

“Can I help you?” said Harry.

“The country’s tragic hero, aren’t ya? Had to get a look at you in person. Good looking young lad, too. You’ve got it all going for you.” said the man darkly, in a thick northern accent, downing his drink right after. Ron looked at at Harry.

“Look, I just want to have a quiet night with my friend. You can’t just come up to me like this.” snapped Harry. He was growing more and more frustrated with the invasiveness of wizards, who felt it their right to get a piece of him whenever they saw him.

“Don’t be so snappy now. I’ve got a question for you.” said the other wizard, pointing at Harry. Harry wondered how drunk the man was.

“Go on then.” said Harry simply, ignoring Ron’s incredulous look at him. The quicker he got rid of this guy without hexing him, the better.

“There we go. Now, did you know, at Hogwarts, a girl called Lavender Brown?” asked the man, looking at Harry dead in the eyes. Harry shared a quick look with Ron, who now looked flabbergasted.

“Yeah. She’s in Gryffindor, in my year. I know her. Why?” said Harry.

“Ahh… see, Harry Potter, you _knew_ Lavender Brown. She died yesterday at St. Mungo’s, after spending six months in pain at St. Mungo’s. Never recovered from that filthy animal’s bite.” said the man, still smiling eerily. Harry felt as if his gut had been punched, he went pale, speechless.

“She’s - she’s what?” said Ron weakly.

The man slammed his fist on the table, and hastily turned to look at Ron.

“Shut yer mouth when yer not bein’ talked to, lad!” he bellowed. Ron jumped and scooted away from him. Harry looked at him in shock.

“I- I had no idea. That’s… I’m so sorry. Did you know her?” said Harry uneasily. Lavender, a girl who he’d since they were eleven, dead… yet another child killed in the war… he had thought she was recovering, that she was fine…

The man gave a maniacal, sinister laugh. “Know her? Me names Bill Brown. She’s my daughter. Of course _you_ didn’t know, Potter. The question is, did you give a damn?”

Harry was speechless.

“No, you didn’t. I s’pose as long as you and your wee friends are alright, that’s all that matters right? The whole goddamned world is licking your arse, our _hero_!” he spat at Harry. “Yet you don’t even know who died for your war! I read the Daily Prophet, Potter, and I can read between the lines! Only a wizard as powerful as Voldemort could’ve defeated him! A _dark wizard_ like him! And we’re just letting you prance around the ministry, Merlin knows what you’ve got planned — ”

“Look, I’m sorry but no one told me about Lavender. She was my friend, and we put Greyback to rot in Azkaban, where he belongs! Voldemort - I had to defeat him, it was more complicated than you think! ” Harry interrupted him, his heart racing, his mind blank. He was gripping his wand so hard it could’ve broke.

“I know all about that shite, Potter. The _chosen one_ and so on, how about the fact that you had Voldemort’s soul inside you? We’re just supposed to believe it’s gone? All _your_ little, or I should call them your followers, are still alive!” Bill Brown stood up, pointing his wand at Harry. “You’re just as dark as him, Potter! You don’t give a damn about all the people who died for you and Voldemort’s war! My daughter, my poor daughter, spending months in pain, dying for a little shit like you to take Voldemort’s place —”

“ _Stupefy!_ ” cried Harry, sending the man back into his seat, unconscious. He turned around, breathlessly, and found that the whole pub had been looking at their exchange.

“Come on Harry. Let’s go.” said Ron, who had appeared next to him, grabbing his arm and dragging Harry off. Harry’s gaze was stuck on the man, who appeared smaller and smaller as Ron pulled Harry’s limp arm out of the pub.

“What a bloody idiot. Don’t think about it, Harry. Why don’t you stay at the Burrow tonight, mum will fix you some tea.”

“I didn’t even know, Ron. About Lavender. She was eighteen… and I had no idea she died. And I’m standing here alive, after surviving death _twice_. The man is right, I don’t deserve to be here, with all the people who died!”

Ron shook Harry into looking at him. Ron’s expression was hard.

“You know why you survived that, Harry? Because of You-know-who’s mistakes. You’re not invincible, if I wanted to kill you right now you’d drop right down to the ground just like Fred did. That man was a drunk, and it’s not our fault no one let us know she was dead, but we can’t dwell on it, Harry. My brother died, your parents, your godfather, Dumbledore, Remus, Tonks… we’ve all had losses!” he cried.

Harry stared at him for a few moments, his mind blank. He couldn’t think right now, he hadn’t even registered what Ron had said… he closed his eyes and apparated home, leaving Ron standing there, swearing into the night.

At home, Harry sat on the edge of his bed, thinking intensely.

“Kreacher.” he called out into the dark room, and the elf immediately appeared in front of him.

“Master Potter! How can Kreacher be of service?” said Kreacher eagerly.

“Kreacher, I need you to go to Gringotts, go into my vault and grab however much you think is needed for a funeral. Then go to Lavender Brown’s mother, but make sure her husband isn’t there, alright? I… don’t think he’ll be there tonight. Give her the gold and tell her its for Lavender’s funeral, but _don’t_ say it was from me. _Do not_ tell her who you work for. Do you understand? Can you do that, Kreacher, please?” said Harry, with an eerie calmness, in a voice that wasn’t his.

“Yes, Kreacher will do what Master asks of him!” said Kreacher loudly, and with a pop he disappeared. After several minutes of Harry sitting in the same position, staring into the darkness, he heard tapping on his window. He opened it for an owl to fly in, but the owl quickly flew away after Harry untied the letter from her.

_Harry,_

_Ron told me what happened at the Leaky Cauldron. Tom saw the whole thing, and told Williams everything. You’re not in trouble, Harry, but don’t go into work tomorrow, alright? I’m corresponding with Williams and we’re sorting it out. You should receive more information from him tomorrow. Molly says you’re more than welcome to spend the night here, and I whole-heartedly agree. If you decide not to, wait for Williams to write to you tomorrow._

_Take care,_

_Arthur Weasley_

Harry read the letter a few times in his bed. He thought he’d probably lost his job, hexing someone in public like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He finally drifted off into a deep sleep.

* * *

Harry woke up late the next day, and the events of the night before replayed in Harry’s mind, leaving him rooted to his spot in his bed for hours. After a while, an owl came to bring Harry a letter, which he didn’t bother opening until he saw the sky darkening and finally decided to eat something.

_Harry,_

_Sorry for the confusion about coming to work today. I was going to give you and Ron the afternoon off anyway, but after I heard what happened last night I had to make sure you were safe before I managed to sort everything out._

_Bilius Brown has been given an order to stay away from you, and we managed to fend off the Daily Prophet reporters by saying you were acting on top secret Auror orders, which they’re not allowed to talk about. No one except us, the Weasleys, Tom and a couple of people who were at the Leaky Cauldron last night know what happened, and everyone’s been ordered to keep quiet._

_We’re leaving tomorrow for Poland. We think we’ll be there about four days, maximum. Pack appropriately, it’s colder over there than it is here, and be at Richmond Park at 10am sharp tomorrow._

_Sincerely,_

_Elias Williams_

Harry read the letter, disgust etched on his face. He supposed they thought he should’ve been relieved after they spent all day doing damage control for him, ordering people to keep quiet for him, lying about his wrongdoings being Auror business. As if this wasn’t exactly what Rita Skeeter talked about, what Bill Brown talked about… his special treatment for surviving something that others had died for…

Harry couldn’t spend any more time at home thinking about it, and went for a walk. He walked into a muggle corner shop, telling himself he’d buy a soft drink, but instead embarrassingly found himself buying a pack of cigarettes and bottle of alcohol. He felt like someone else had taken control of his body as he sat at a park bench, taking swigs out of his bottle of liquor, refusing to think about the past day or the next day.

Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself walking in a familiar direction… he finally stopped in front of a big red door, and sat on the steps in front of it. He pulled out a cigarette and found himself chain-smoking, sitting there. He wondered if Ron had told Hermione… she’d probably be worried, he’d probably get home to a long letter from her… Mrs. Weasley was probably worried too… as if he deserved to have all these people caring for him.

He was lost in thought and barely noticed or cared about the people walking past him going, “bloody drunks” or “can’t you do that somewhere else, mate?”. He saw a pair of legs stop right in front of him, and looked up.

“Harry? What are you doing here?” said Sadie, looking flabbergasted.

“Fancy seeing you here.” joked Harry weakly.

Sadie blinked at him. “You’re outside my house.”

Harry looked around. “Huh. Figures.” he said, taking a long draw from the cigarette.

“Are you - are you drunk?” she asked him, kneeling down to face him. Harry didn’t answer and just looked at her.

“Oh, God.” she said, a look of worry on her face. She took the cigarette out of his lips and threw it behind her, standing up. She grabbed his arm and pulled him up carefully, as he stumbled. “Come on.” she said quietly, opening the door. Slowly, they walked up the stairs to her flat, as Harry stumbled and almost fell multiple times. They finally walked into the flat, and Harry looked around, taking it all in. It was a stark difference from his own place, he thought. His flat was empty and lifeless, with the odd magical artifact scattered around, and a couple of framed pictures in his room. Sadie’s place was colorful and bright. She had multiple bookcases covering the walls, with what looked like hundreds of books. He saw a few paintings and framed pictures, as well as her record player, identical to his, sitting on a table, with at least a hundred records stacked. She took off his coat, led him to a baby blue velvet couch and sat him down, before leaving the room. She came back with a glass of cold water and handed it to him, which he immediately drank.

She sat next to him on the couch and started smoking a cigarette, looking at him.

“Care to explain why you show up at my place, at 7pm on a Tuesday, drunk out of your mind?” she asked him pointedly. Harry gulped.

“I dunno.” he said simply, and tried to change the subject. “You’ve got a lot of books.”

“I’m getting an English degree.” she replied, also looking at her bookcases.

“You’d get along with my friend. She loves reading, too. She’s mug- ” he stopped himself before he said anything revealing. She gave him an odd look.

They sat in silence for a while, before Sadie picked up her TV remote and started flicking through the channels.

“You’re lucky I’ve done all my homework already…” she mumbled. Harry found himself wondering why in Merlin’s name he had come here, of all places. They both watched the TV, although Harry wasn’t paying attention to any of it, thinking of how he’d be able to explain this to her. He scanned the room again, and his eyes landed on a painting of a pond with pink and purple flowers. He got up, struggling a bit, and walked to it to get a better look.

“What’s this?” he asked her. She walked up to him.

“It’s Monet’s Waterlilies. He’s my favorite artist. This is a print, obviously, though. I got it at the National Gallery.” she explained, looking at it too.

“It’s beautiful.” said Harry, truthfully. “Where’s the real one?”

“At the National Gallery. Have you never been?” she asked.

Harry shook his head.

“We could go someday, if you decide to show up sober, obviously.” she said with a trace of irritation in her voice.

“And this?” he asked her, pointing to a picture framed underneath the painting. It was a picture of what looked like a thirteen or fourteen year old Sadie, sporting a big grin on her face as she stood next to a boy and girl who looked like they weren’t older than seven, and two adults. Behind them was a gorgeous scenery of white buildings almost stacked on top of each other and a bright blue ocean. Sadie smiled.

“My family. That’s from when we went to Greece a few years ago.” she answered, and Harry noticed she was caressing her necklace again. He decided to drop the subject.

“Why don’t you play a song?” he said, gesturing to the record player. Harry walked around to get a good look at her books, and stood in front of a bookcase staring at the various titles. _Emma, Crime and Punishment, Candide…_

A slow bluesy track started playing, before a woman with a deep, soulful voice sang over it.

_I put a spell on you_

_Because you’re mine…_

“Who’s singing this?” asked Harry.

“Nina Simone.” said Sadie softly, as she swayed her head, with her eyes shut. Before Harry knew what he was doing, aware of his intoxicated state influencing him, he walked up to where she was standing and took her hand. She looked at him, her doe eyes betraying both fear and curiosity, and they started slowly dancing to the song. Harry didn’t feel the fear and nervousness he’d felt at the Yule Ball, and the dancing came rather naturally to him, as he turned Sadie around and pulled her back into his chest. They swayed to the slow song, both smiling, as her arms were wrapped around his neck, with his around her waist. The song felt like it lasted hours, and Harry forgot that anything but the girl in his arms existed.

_I don’t care if you don’t want me,_

_I’m yours right now_

_You hear me? I put a spell on you_

_Because you’re mine_

They were closer than they had ever been before, their faces almost touching, he could feel her breath on his lips. He thought about going for it as his heart almost pounded out if his chest, he wanted to kiss her so bad… they stood face to face for a few moments, as the song finished and silence filled the room.

A new song started, and the two broke apart quite suddenly, both taking a few steps back. Sadie quickly turned around.

“I’ll make us some tea.” she said quietly, making her way to the kitchen. Harry dropped down on the couch mindlessly, processing what had just happened between them. She soon came back with two mugs, which Harry gratefully accepted. He cleared his throat.

“I have to travel abroad for a few days, for work, but I was thinking that when I get back we could properly go out.” he said, taking a sip from the hot drink, hoping the tension in the air would lift.

“Traveling abroad for work? I thought you said you did low-level stuff, that sounds quite important.” answered Sadie, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, yeah, it’s important but I’m only going as my boss’ assistant.” he answered quickly, hoping it was convincing.

“You’re very secretive, Harry. What are you so scared of telling me?” she said bluntly, putting her drink down harshly.

Harry found himself growing a bit irritated. He was hoping for a break from the constant questioning and attention from everyone, yet here he was getting yet another inquisition…

“Well, you know we’ve just met, right?” he said rather irritably. Sadie stood up and turned around, her back to him.

“Right, right. We’ve just met. So you can show up here wasted, but when I ask for a little more detail about your life _we’ve just met._ ” she answered, turning around to face him.

“You know you don’t need to keep using that against me to make your point? I’ve had a shit day, and don’t need _you_ on my arse as well as everyone else!” spat Harry. Sadie laughed almost crazily.

“Oh! I s’pose you think you can just turn up here so I can make you tea and sober you up and relieve you of your oh-so-difficult life!” she cried. Harry stood up, his face hardened, and walked up right in front of her.

“You don’t have a bloody clue about having a difficult life. Understand?” he said, and by this point he was fuming, he had the urge to hold his wand, but remembered it was in his coat. She didn’t cower and faced him, breathing hard.

“And you’ve just gone and assumed that?” she said calmly.

“I don’t need to.” Harry replied, with the same calmness. “Every day of my life is a reminder of how flipping _tragic_ I’ve had it. I don’t appreciate you mocking that when you don’t have a clue.” he said, and sat back down.

Sadie was quiet for a few moments.

“Well, why can’t you… elaborate a bit?” she finally said, also sitting down.

Harry sighed, knowing he wasn’t ready to tell her about the truth, and thought about how to word it.

“Imagine you’ve spent your entire life building up to one moment, that your whole life had one meaning, one purpose, that made you miss out on a real childhood, adolescence… then that moment comes, and you’re _alive_ , but all you can think about after it are the people you loved that you lost along the way, the time you lost, and blame yourself for everything…” he trailed off, wondering if he’d revealed too much. He continued.

“I was drinking a lot this summer, they were worried… I finally got out of it recently, but something happened last night and, and yeah.” he finished, shrugging lazily.

Sadie looked perplexed, as if she were trying to work out which scenario this would fit in.

“That’s - that’s dark, Harry.” she said quietly. “I won’t ask for you to go into detail yet, but I know you’re keeping something from me, and I’m almost positive everything you’ve told me about your life has been a lie. All this talk about living and dying… you can tell me when you’re up to it.” she said, and to his surprise, raised a hand to his cheek, touching it lightly.

“Thank you.” he said, looking up at her. “And I appreciate your kindness today. God knows I needed it.” he touched her hand on his cheek and held it for a few seconds. He made a quick calculation in his head before speaking again.

“Are you free on Sunday?” he asked tentatively. She nodded and he smiled.

“I guess I should get going then.” he said, standing up.

“Wait.” said Sadie, also standing up, giving him an unreadable look. “You still haven’t sobered up, and you shouldn’t walk home drunk. Just stay the night here.”

Harry was well aware of the fact that he’d be able to just apparate home and avoid the walk, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn down her offer. They argued for almost five minutes about who would take the bed and who would take the couch, before Sadie finally gave in and agreed to take the bed. She didn’t, however, stand up to go to bed, and they sat on the couch in silence, looking mindlessly at the TV in front of them, still holding hands.

When Harry woke up the next morning, he smiled as he realized that neither of them had slept on the bed in the end, as he saw Sadie’s head resting on his shoulder, in deep sleep. He looked at his watch and was lucky to see that it was only 7am, and he’d have time to apparate home and get himself ready for his trip. He cautiously moved Sadie’s head and put a blanket over her, before quietly putting his coat on. Before he left, he stared at her sleeping figure for a few moments, and decided to leave her a note.

_See you on Sunday._

_\- Harry_

He opened and shut the door as silently as he could, and found himself standing in the corridor outside her flat. He apparated home.


	9. Jamie Wilkinson

It was Harry’s second day in Poland. He and Ron were sharing a room in a hotel in Warsaw, only minutes away from the Polish ministry of magic. They were at the breakfast bar, picking out different fruits and pastries, before they sat down at a table to eat.

“Incredible. So they give you a room and bathroom to yourself, they clean it, _and_ give you free food every morning?” exclaimed Ron, who had three plates of food in front of him. Harry nodded.

“I’ve never been in one before.” he admitted, taking a bit from his croissant.

“I could definitely get used to Auror perks.” said Ron.

They hadn’t talked about the incident at the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry was grateful, as the last thing he wanted to do was revisit that night and the feelings it brought out. They finished eating and met up with Williams and Perkins in the lobby of the hotel. Williams cast a muffliato charm over them.

“Alright, lads. So let’s recap what we know so far. Weasley, go first.” said Williams, in his usual serious and authoritative tone.

“So the man’s called Jamie Wilkinson. He’s a half-blood who went to Durmstrang, and the twat ended up moving back in with his family in England after finishing school. His family never got approached by You-know-who or death eaters because they kept moving around the country and hiding from him, since Wilkinson’s old man is muggle-born.” said Ron.

“Good job. Now Potter, continue from where he left off.” said Williams.

“Jamie made acquaintance with death eaters after frequenting Borgin and Burkes, who told him about Voldemort’s mission. His family was horrified when they found out Jamie was sympathizing with Voldemort, and basically told him to get lost. Wilkinson just about made it into Voldemort’s army, but a few days later the Battle of Hogwarts happened. Jamie fled to Poland to stay with an old mate from Durmstrang.”

“Great jobs, guys. So we today we’re going to find this friend of his and question him. We’re meeting up with a lad from the Polish ministry who’s gonna be doing the translating for us. All clear?” asked Wilkinson, giving his knees a slap and standing up.

“Hold on, Williams.” said Harry. Everyone looked at him. “Who tipped us off about him?” he asked.

William and Perkins looked at each other. “That’s the thing, Harry.” said Perkins, who was a quiet and rather gloomy guy. “We don’t know.”

They met up with the Polish translator outside of the hotel, a tall guy called Antoni Dabowski.

“Harry Potter.” said Antoni proudly, shaking his hand. “Even in Poland you’re very famous, Mr. Potter. We greatly admire your bravery and strength of character.”

Harry thanked him sincerely, and was impressed by Antoni’s perfect English.

“I spent a year at Hogwarts, actually. I did an exchange program. Great school.” said Antoni, after Ron asked him about his English, clearly as impressed as Harry.

“So the Polish ministry has kindly arranged a Portkey for us to get to Zamosc, where Wilkinson’s old school friend lives. Is everyone ready?” said Williams, as they stood in an old, run-down alley. The five of them touched a can of Coke that was on the floor, and moments later found themselves standing in a new city in Poland.

Harry, who had spent the entire day before this one in the Polish ministry of magic, was almost speechless at finally getting to see a bit of this country that wasn’t its ministry of magic and the hotel they were staying in.

“You alright, Potter?” said Perkins.

“I’ve just never been abroad before.” Harry said truthfully.

“You’ll love this job, then.” replied Perkins, smiling.

The five of them started walking to Wilkinson’s friend’s house. Ron cleared his throat next to him, and Harry looked at him.

“Did you end up seeing the girl?” asked Ron quietly.

Harry was silent for a few moments. “Erm, yeah. The day before we left.”

Ron gave him a knowing look, which made Harry roll his eyes. Williams stopped in front of a house, and the group followed. He turned around, giving everyone a look that clearly meant _get ready_.

He knocked on the door, and a few seconds later a young man with tousled blond hair and blue eyes opened it. He was wearing long, dark robes, a contrast to the group’s muggle attire. The man said something in Polish, and Antoni replied to him. With a grunt, the blond man opened the door and let the Aurors in. He took them into his living room, which was so dark and run-down it reminded Harry of Grimmauld Place.

“This is Jakob Sawicki, everyone.” said Antoni.

“Ask the young man what he knows about Jamie Wilkinson.” said Williams, clearly wanting to spare the introductions, as he looked around the room warily, as if waiting for a dark wizard to pop out of a corner. Harry wondered if he should be worried.

Antoni spoke to the man in Polish again. Jakob was silent for a few seconds, his expression betraying nothing, before he answered.

“He says that Jamie stayed here for about three months after the war in England, but suddenly disappeared without a word, and that he hasn’t heard from him since.” said Antoni. Ron and Harry shared a look.

“Ask him if he knows what Jaime was up to when he was here.” said Harry to Antoni. He noticed Jakob was now staring at him, a sinister smile on his face. Antoni spoke to Jakob again, who replied while still looking at Harry. Harry stared back.

“He says the two of them were just having normal summer holidays, mostly partying, and that he thinks Wilkinson might’ve gone to Warsaw. He - er - he also wants Harry to know that he’s very honored to have him in his home.” said Antoni, giving Harry a confused look. Williams stood up.

“I guess we have all we need, then.” he said, getting ready to leave.

_You’re very admired here, Harry Potter. It must’ve taken considerable power to defeat the Dark Lord. It’s a shame you’re wasting your talent working with the enemy._

Harry noticed that everyone in the room was staring at him, and quickly realized that the man had spoken to him in Parseltongue. Williams had an alarmed expression, and the five of them had moved their hands to their wands.

_Where is Wilkinson?_

Harry asked him in Parseltongue. Jakob’s sinister smile widened.

_Onto better things._

They heard a small pop resound in the house, and everyone looked around.

“Ask him if we can have a look around the house.” said Perkins, who had now withdrawn his wand. Antoni spoke again.

“ABSOLUTNIE NIE!” yelled Jakob, taking out his own wand. Ron quickly disarmed him, and Williams picked up Jakob’s wand.

“Spread out and look in every room. I’ll watch him.” yelled Williams.

The Aurors quickly spread around the house, with Harry running up the stairs to the top floor. He checked the rooms on the floor, which looked normal, however on his way back downstairs he noticed a square with a handle on it appear on the ceiling, which looked like the entrance to an attic. He pulled the handle and stairs came down. He climbed up the stairs and immediately noticed one of the worst smells he had ever experienced. As soon as both his feet touched the floor of the attic, the stair quickly came up again and the entrance had disappeared, now looking like a normal piece of the floor. The attic was vast and decaying, only illuminated by a small window. Harry looked around and had to cover his nose with his coat because of the smell. He heard a sound, and quickly turned around to find himself standing in front of a man with a long, slim face, and long black hair in a ponytail.

“Finally, I get to meet Harry Potter himself.” said the man, extending Harry his hand. Harry ignored it, continuing to survey the room.

“You’re Wilkinson?” asked Harry.

The man smiled eerily. “I’m glad the Aurors decided to bring you, Potter. You’re the entire reason we tipped them off in the first place.”

Harry stared at him, his wand held out, ready to attack at any moment.

“Why?” he asked him. “Wanted to get your own fair shot at killing me, too?”

Wilkinson laughed. “Kill you? Only if you refuse. We _want_ to recruit you.”

It was now Harry’s turn to laugh. “ _Recruit_ me? Have you gone mad? You’re aware of the fact that I got rid of your idiot of a leader?”

“It’s well known among us that the Dark Lord’s biggest mistake was his obsession with killing you. The man wanted you dead your entire life, so you naturally had to kill him. However, that showed us that we were following the wrong man. _You_ survived death twice, Potter. A wizard with power like yours hasn’t existed since Salazar Slytherin. _You_ should be our real leader. I heard you speaking Parseltongue earlier, and the entrance to this room only shows up to those who are worthy _._ It’s clear that your victory over the Dark Lord was only a step in your own rise to power!” Wilkinson said proudly.

Harry felt sick to his stomach. This is exactly what Bill Brown had been talking about… exactly what he feared. These people idolized him now, they thought he was a dark wizard with equal, if not more power than Voldemort, that he wanted to take his place.

Harry decided to ignore what Wilkinson had said, maybe he could get more information out of him…

“So, was the stuff about horcruxes true? Or just another way to get me here?” said Harry, who was wondering if the other Aurors had noticed him gone missing.

“That _was_ true. We were inspired by the Dark Lord’s plan, but he wanted too much glory for himself. So we thought, if _all_ of us could make horcruxes, with someone like you leading us, we’d be invincible!” answered Wilkinson.

“And how many of you are there?” asked Harry.

Wilkinson smiled again. “Now that, Potter, is too much information. You’ll have to agree first, and prove yourself by killing your idiot friends downstairs.”

Knowing that was the extent of the information Harry could get, he decided to stop playing along.

“Well you know what I think? I think you’re a bunch of losers. You haven’t got a clue of the type of dark magic Voldemort was dabbling in, and wouldn’t be able to imitate it if you spent your entire life trying. You’re all just scum, desperate for someone who you consider better than you to tell you what to do. I wouldn’t want to get within three feet of you, let alone _join_ you.” spat Harry.

His response had deeply angered Wilkinson, who had now raised his own wand, shock and disappointment etched on his face.

“Don’t make a mistake now, Potter. You won’t get a chance like this again —”

“ _Stupefy!_ ” yelled Harry, and Wilkinson shot through the air, landing on the other side of the attic with a thud. Harry felt glad he had gotten the man to finally shut up, however realized that the entrance hadn’t appeared again, and started calling out to the rest of the Aurors downstairs. He walked around the room, examining the different artifacts scattered around. They were almost all made of different metals, and looked considerably valuable. He wondered with a shudder if these were what they were planning to make into horcruxes. Could any of them succeed in their quest…?

One of the objects was now glowing, which Harry realized wasn’t when he had first entered the room. He got closer to it. It was a small chest made out of silver, with different gems on it. Across the top, was the inscription _Aperta Ad Mortem._

He found himself wishing Hermione were there, she’d probably know what that meant… he was now staring intensely at the object, knowing he probably shouldn’t touch it, but he _had_ to open it, to know if there was a horcrux in there… He went to open it, however as soon as he touched the glowing chest everything went black.


	10. St. Mungo's

“He just moved his finger.” said a voice.

“No he didn’t, you’re imagining it.” said another voice irritably.

“But I saw it.” said the male voice.

“Really, George? _Again_?” answered the female voice.

“Be quiet, both of you. George, you’ve been saying he’s moved his finger for the past week now. Drop it already.” said a third voice.

“Wait, mum, he just did it again. I saw it too.” said a voice that Harry recognized as Ron’s.

There was a silence.

“Call Mr. Chang. Now.” said the third voice, which Harry now recognized as Mrs. Weasley’s.

“I told you!” said George, indignantly.

There was a lot of noise now, as Harry heard several people murmuring and shuffling.

A voice Harry didn’t recognize spoke.

“Harry? Are you awake? Can you try to slowly open your eyes?”

With considerable effort, Harry managed to open his eyes, but immediately shut them again as he was met with a bright light that made his head pound. In fact, he now realized that his entire body was in excruciating pain, which didn’t improve when someone seemingly put their entire body weight on him, while loudly sobbing.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, and the weight was rapidly lifted.

“Oh, God, Harry, I’m so sorry, I was just excited…” said Hermione, through sobs. Upon hearing her voice, Harry slowly opened his eyes.

“No touching, please. He’s in a lot of pain.” said the voice Harry didn’t recognize, which upon opening his eyes, he realized was a healer.

“Took you long enough!” said George, with a wide grin.

He looked around to see George sitting to his right, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley standing and hugging each other, both of them with tears running down their cheeks, and Ron sitting at a chair right to his left, looking pale and sullen.

“You alright, Ron? You look dead.” said Harry weakly.

“You should see yourself, mate.” said George.

Mrs. Weasley gave George a dirty look and turned to Harry. “Oh Harry.” she said, her voice breaking. “He’s barely left your side since you’ve gotten here, he hasn’t slept in weeks, Williams had to give him time off - ”

“That’s enough, mum.” said Ron, turning red.

 _Weeks?_ thought Harry.

“Wh - what happened?” he asked, his voice still weak and small.

They all looked at each other.

“You need to rest, Harry. We can talk about all that later…” said Hermione, tentatively.

“ _Rest_? By the sound of it I’ve been _resting_ for at least a few days now. Can someone tell me what’s going on? How long has it been?” he asked, not meaning to sound as irritated as he did, but the mind-numbing pain he was in spoke for him.

Hermione and Mrs. Weasley slowly sat down at the other two chairs next to him, as Harry looked at everyone expectantly.

“Before we get to all that, Harry, we need to see how you’re doing.” said the healer, calmly. Harry had forgotten he was there, and felt embarrassed about his outburst. He nodded.

“Now, how does your head feel? Foggy? Have you got a headache?” said the healer. Harry nodded again, and the healer scribbled something on a notepad.

“What about your body?” asked the healer.

“Feels like I’ve had all the bones in my body broken about ten times over.” said Harry honestly, while groaning.

“Well, that’s to be expected, Harry. Although, believe it or not, you’re recovering quite well. You weren’t meant to wake up for another day or two.” said the healer. “That was some powerful magic you touched. You’re quite resilient.”

The healer scribbled some more on his notepad, before smiling at Harry and walking away.

Harry looked back at the people sitting next to him. “So?” he asked.

“Alright, turns out the horcrux stuff was true, but they were the ones who tipped us off about it. Apparently because they wanted to talk to you.” started Ron.

Harry nodded, remembering the events that had happened before he blacked out.

“I know that part. Wilkinson told me. Did you catch him?” he said eagerly. Ron grinned. “Sitting in Azkaban as we speak. Although not before we forced some Veritaserum in him and got all the information we needed.”

“So, you know? How he was trying to _recruit_ me?” said Harry sheepishly. Ron looked away and nodded.

“Well, by the sound of it, Harry, he wasn’t only trying to recruit you. They want you as their leader.” spoke Hermione, looking visibly shaken.

Harry was hoping that part wouldn’t get brought up, and noticed everyone looked just as horrified as Hermione.

“Well, I told that idiot to bug off. Had to stun him to get him to shut up.” said Harry, groaning again at the pain. “Wait.” he added quickly, after registering after Hermione had said. “You said _want_. Didn’t you catch the rest of them?”

Ron gulped. “Well… Wilkinson told us they were planning something. But he didn’t know _who_ was doing it.”

Harry stared at him. “How is that possible?” he said slowly.

“They’ve been using an anonymous communication system. So they don’t know themselves who’s a part of their plot.” answered Hermione. “It’s quite clever really, so if someone like Wilkinson gets caught, he can’t give the rest of them up, because he doesn’t know who they are.”

Harry cursed, causing Mrs. Weasley to go “ _Language!_ ”. He looked at her apologetically.

“So that’s it, then?” he sighed. “Well, what got me here, then? Did he wake up or something?”

“Actually, it’s that thing you touched, Harry. Wilkinson and the Polish wizard had put some sort of curse on it, so that if you refused their offer, it’d catch your attention and then… if you touched it it’d have the power of a hundred Cruciatis curses.” Hermione’s voice broke, and Harry’s eyes widened. “I’d never even heard of magic like that existing… although they weren’t as clever as they thought they were.” she finished with a small smile.

“W- why?” he asked, shaken from the news, though he thought he was asking _why am I still alive?_ , rather than asking why they hadn’t been clever enough…

“The twats thought it’d drive you mad, or even kill you, but the pain was so intense you just passed out. Which was lucky at first, but… you were starting to wake up after we found you. We had to blast a hole through the ceiling to find you in the first place, we still have no idea how you even got up there… anyway we rushed you to the Polish hospital, who just about managed give you a deep sleep potion before you woke up. That’s where you spent the first week.” answered Ron.

Harry was silent for a few seconds, taking it all in. So that’s why he was in so much pain, a hundred Cruciatis curses… Harry remembered being Crucio’d in the past, how he thought he was going to die, how bad he had _wanted_ to die…

“The first week?” he finally said. “How long has it been?”

“Twenty-two days.” answered Hermione, her eyes welling up with tears again.

Harry sank his head into the bed. “Blimey…” he muttered, closing his eyes. They were silent for a while, as Harry processed all of the information in his head again.

“If I hadn’t touched that bloody thing… my own stupid curiosity got me here.” he said.

“Well, not really, Harry. It was cursed to make you drawn to it. You didn’t really have any control over it.” answered Hermione, which gave Harry some relief.

He started to feel his head clear up a bit, which left him with even more questions.

“So how long have you lot been here?” he asked guiltily, feeling like he’d disrupted all of their lives.

George answered for him. “Ron and mum have been here just about every second of every day since it happened. Even in Poland… me and dad have had to take turns cooking.” he said with a shudder. “I’ve been popping in and out whenever Angelina’s got a shift, but the whole family’s been stopping by. Hermione got some time off school… other than that just about every wizard in England.” he finished with a grin. Harry looked at him confusedly.

“The Polish press got a hold of the fact that you were in the hospital, so obviously the Prophet got their hands all over it, we’ve been weening them off you for weeks now. Other than that… Hagrid’s come by, McGonagall, Andromeda and Teddy, Neville, Luna, Dean, Seamus, the Aurors, Kingsley, that nasty elf of yours - oh bug off, Hermione - even your muggle cousin’s been up Ron’s arse- er, pants about where you were.” finished George, giving his mother an apologetic look.

Harry blushed in embarrassment at the news that so many people had been to visit him, feeling like he wanted to sink into the Earth right then and there.

“Oh, don’t go feeling sorry, now. It’s actually been a bit of fun, having everyone come by. You’ve been missing out on quite the hospital parties, lying there with your finger twitching. You might want to take a look at that, by the way.” said George, his eyebrow raised.

Mrs. Weasley gave her son a slap on the arm, as Harry painfully lifted his right arm to look at his hand. His mouth dropped as he looked at his index finger. It had a horrendous black circle on the tip with several black lines leading out of it, which stopped as they reached the beginning of his palm. Harry was speechless, looking at the people around him, waiting for an explanation.

“It’s where you touched the chest, Harry. Dark magic leaves its mark on you. Just like the scar on your forehead.” answered Hermione for him, softly.

“Dumbledore’s hand, too.” added Ron.

Harry still couldn’t bring himself to say anything, and waited for the shock to wear off before he could speak again. He finally realized something, as he looked at Hermione…

“Wait, what did George mean by time off school?” Harry asked her incredulously.

“Well, when Ron told me what happened… I mean, you can imagine how I felt. I couldn’t sleep or eat, I thought you were going to d-die. After a few days, I found out you were going to be fine, so I spent my time in the library, researching the magic they used on you to keep my mind off it. Anyway, the healers told Mrs. Weasley you were likely to wake up this week, so I convinced McGonagall to give me the week off. I’ve been staying in Ginny’s room.” she explained.

Harry stared at her in shock. “But your NEWTS!” he exclaimed.

She smiled. “I got all my work done for the week before coming here. Oh, don’t look at me like that, I’ll be alright!”

“That’s ridiculous, Hermione… and George said something about Dudley?” said Harry, looking at Ron.

“I ran into him when I stopped by your flat to get your stuff one time, to bring to the Burrow. He hasn’t left me alone since, he and his _friends_ are very curious about why you’ve disappeared.” said Ron, winking at Harry at the word ‘friends’.

Harry thought about what he’d said for a moment, and felt his heart sink upon realizing… _Sadie_. He felt worse now than he had hearing any of this… he had a date with her planned the day after he was supposed to get back. What could she be thinking? That he had bailed on her, probably? Harry guessed his expression must’ve betrayed his feelings, as he noticed Hermione giving him a perplexed look.

“When - when am I going to be able to get out of here?” he said, sounding rather panicky.

“Classic Harry.” said George, rolling his eyes. “Two minutes after finding out he almost died, already asking when he can get back on a broomstick…”

“They’ll want to keep you here for a few more days, dear, to make sure you’re okay. After, you’ll be staying with us for a while - no excuses!” exclaimed Mrs. Weasley, as soon as Harry had opened his mouth. “The healers made it clear you’ll need someone to watch over you as you recover.” she finished.

Harry decided best to leave it, as he looked at his finger dejectedly. Yet another ugly scar on his body…

“But this is my wand hand.” he said in horror, looking up. “Dumbledore had to switch his wand hand… am I…?”

“Your hand will work perfectly fine.” said a voice, and Harry saw the healer from before walk into the room. “You’ll have to live with the scar, unfortunately, but the curse is almost done doing its damage on you. You’ll have to take a sleep potion, now, son. You’re going to need a lot of care and rest for the pain to end.” said the healer, who’s name tag said _Kao Chang_ , Harry noticed.

“Best healer in the country, he is. Kingsley insisted, he wanted _only Chang_ to heal you.” said Mrs. Weasley, grinning.

Harry considered protesting against drinking the sleep potion, miserably thinking about how this had been his first hour awake in over three weeks, but was in so much physical pain he realized he’d actually rather drift off than deal with it. He drank the tasteless potion, and found himself growing groggier and groggier.

“You guys really didn’t have to do this.” he said, sleepily. “I’ll be alright, you don’t have to put your lives on pause for me…”

Harry heard everyone groan and a “Oh, shut up, Harry.” before he drifted into a deep sleep.


	11. Surprise!

It was Harry’s third day awake, and his last day at St. Mungo’s. The physical pain had subsided a bit, but Harry still had a hard time walking and moving. He was sitting with Ron and Hermione, eating a cake Dr. Chang had given Harry.

“It’s from my daughter, Cho. She says the two of you were very good friends at Hogwarts, and wishes you a speedy recovery.” Dr. Chang had said earlier that day, making Harry turn a deep shade of red. Ron had tried very hard to suppress his laughter as Harry stuttered “Right… tell her I appreciate it.”

“I’ve got to give it to Cho, she’s an excellent cook.” said Ron, with his mouth full. “I’d put this on par with mum’s cakes. Hermione couldn’t make something like this to save her life.” he finished, earning himself a slap on the arm by Hermione, which was so hard his plate fell.

“I’ll have you know, Ronald Weasley, I _am_ a good cook, and I’d think twice about being so rude to me on my last day here. You _do_ remember I’m tutoring Draco, tomorrow, right?” said Hermione pointedly, as she stood up and left the room, leaving Ron and Harry alone.

“What in the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?” yelled Ron after her. “And why’s she calling him _Draco_ , now?” he said indignantly, turning to face Harry.

Harry controlled the urge to roll his eyes as Ron looked at him, almost fuming. Harry knew that this was Hermione’s way of getting back at Ron for Lavender and leaving them during their horcrux hunt the last year, since Ron had a visceral reaction every time she mentioned even slightly mentioned the tutoring. Harry did find the whole thing rather immature, but had chosen once again to stay out of their bickering. This time, however, Ron was too angry to ignore.

“She’s only saying that to make you jealous.” said Harry. “And she’s right, by the way. You’re not gonna see her for weeks. You could be nicer.” he added.

“J-jealous? Of that twat? Is she mad?” spluttered Ron. Harry was silent.

“I bet Malfoy’s laughing at me this very instant… getting tutored by my girlfriend while I’m away… yeah, they probably laugh at me together, _tutoring_ … tutoring, my arse…” murmured Ron. He gave the leg of Harry’s hospital bed a hard kick, which made it move a few inches to the side, and made Harry loudly groan in pain.

“I very much doubt Malfoy enjoys it. He probably finds it quite humiliating.” reasoned Harry. “And can’t you kick something else? I’m here for a reason, you know?” he added angrily.

“So why’s she doing it?” spat Ron.

“‘Cos he’s failing Transfiguration.” said Harry, shrugging. “And McGonagall asked her to. Didn’t Hermione say something about promoting inter-house unification?” he finished.

“Who cares about inter-house whatever? And why _them,_ of all people?” cried Ron.

Harry stayed silent, closing his eyes, as Ron’s kicking and yelling had caused his head to start pounding again.

It was 6pm and finally time for Harry to leave St. Mungo’s. Ron and George were already back at the Burrow, and Harry was perched up on his hospital bed, with Hermione at his side, waiting for Dr. Chang to give him the okay.

Finally he arrived, accompanied my Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and to Harry’s horror, a wheelchair.

“What is that?” asked Harry desperately, his voice betraying the panic he felt.

“You’re not quite ready to walk yet, Harry, so you’ll have to use this for the next few days. It’s charmed so that you can tell it where to go, and it can hover over stairs. I’ve already told Mr. and Mrs. Weasley everything they need to know about your treatment, and we think you’ll be fully recovered within the next two weeks. As for now, however, you’re discharged.” said Dr. Chang, smiling at Harry.

Harry distractedly thanked Dr. Chang, his mind fixated on the wheelchair sitting in front of him. They finally made their way out of the hospital. Harry, despite finding it incredibly humiliating, thought the wheelchair was relatively convenient and easy to use. All he had to do was think of which direction to head in and the wheelchair did the work. He tried to avoid the stares of seemingly everyone in St. Mungo’s as they exited. The second they left the hospital, however, they were met with a swarm of Daily Prophet reporters, including Rita Skeeter.

“Harry! Harry! How are you feeling about your second close call with death this year?” she was yelling after them.

“How worried were you about your boyfriend, Ms. Granger?” said another reporter who had caught up with them, making both Harry and Hermione blush.

“Arthur, you said they weren’t allowed to do this!” hissed Mrs. Weasley. Harry had only seen Mrs. Weasley look this angry seconds before she killed Bellatrix.

“Yes, honey, but only while Harry’s _inside_ the hospital… someone must’ve tipped them off about us using the old exit… come on everyone, hurry inside.” said Mr. Weasley, opening the door to a large, black car.

The wheelchair hovered inside with ease as everyone made their way into the car, which was charmed to be twice as big inside.

Harry stared out the window as the car made its ascent into the dark evening sky, the reporters getting smaller and smaller beneath them.

“Merlin, Harry, I’m sorry about that. Dr. Chang and I had arranged to use the old exit to leave, since hardly anyone even knows it exists anymore… someone must’ve overheard us or something.” said Mr. Weasley said, shaking his head.

“It’s not your fault, Arthur. I could hide underneath my invisibility cloak for the rest of my life and they’d still find me.” said Harry darkly.

They reached the borrow shortly after, and Harry’s chair hovered out of the car. Even over the patchy grass the wheelchair was smooth, and the four of them made their way inside. The house was silent and dark, and Harry wondered where Ron and George were. As he entered the living room, however, he was surprised to find a large group of people standing and talking to each other. Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat, but no one heard her. She did it again, loudly this time, and everyone turned to look at them. They were silent.

“George!” said an undignified Ron. “You were meant to let us know when they came in!”

George, who was standing in a corner talking to Angelina Johnson, looked at everyone in horror.

“Oh blimey, I lost track of time, er… Surprise?” he said tentatively.

The crowd burst into speech as several people came up to Harry to greet him. He found himself in front of Hagrid, who had tears running down his cheeks and was painfully ruffling Harry’s hair, Bill and Fleur, Andromeda with Teddy in her arms, the latter loudly crying, and Neville and Luna.

“I was wondering why you lot didn’t come to the hospital.” said Harry sheepishly. “I’m really glad all of you are here.”

“This one hasn’t shut up about you for weeks now. He missed you.” said Andromeda, looking at Teddy. The little baby was now quietly sitting in Harry’s lap.

“We told McGonagall it wasn’t fair that she let Hermione go and not us, so she let us come today.” grinned Neville.

“And I’m not too glad I did. I expect _impeccable_ grades now that I’ve given you this allowance.” said McGonagall strictly, who had appeared next to them.

“Professor!” said Harry, astonished. “I’m happy to see you. How’re you doing?”

“I’m doing well, Harry. Filling in Dumbledore’s shoes is quite the job, but I’m glad to do it. He says he’s happy you’re better, by the way. I _insisted_ on bringing the portrait but he said he didn’t want to ruin your night.” replied McGonagall, a kind, knowing smile on her face. Harry felt his heart race.

“I’d love to go and see him sometime, if that’s alright.” he said, the emotion in his voice apparent.

“As I’m sure he would too.” she said softly.

“So you’ll come to see Dumbledore but not me, ‘Arry?” said Hagrid dejectedly.

“Ron and I were actually planning to visit you, Hagrid, before all this happened.” explained Harry truthfully, which made Hagrid smile, and the two began to catch up.

After his conversation with Hagrid, Harry scanned the room, looking to see if he’d missed anyone, and to his surprise found that Kingsley and Williams had appeared in the doorway. He made his way over to them.

“Potter. Glad to see you’re better. That was a nasty trick, what they did.” said Williams, shaking Harry’s hand.

“I have to apologize for sending you on that mission, Harry. We should’ve been more wary.” said Kingsley, who looked slightly ashamed. Harry shook his head.

“Nonsense. I don’t want special treatment because of who I am. I’ll do the job just like everyone else.” he said clearly, making Kingsley smile. “I have a couple of questions, though, could we maybe talk about it?” he added hopefully.

“Not here Potter. When you’re back at the office, which we’re told could be as early as the week after the next.” said Williams.

Harry was disappointed, but nodded nonetheless. The two then said they had to run off, as they’d only popped in to say hi, and left. Harry went to were Neville, Luna, Hermione and Ron sat.

“ — miles better than last year! Especially with most of the Slytherins gone, lessons are actually quite fun now.” exclaimed Neville. “Only thing is our Quidditch team’s gone to rubbish, with you and Harry gone. Ginny’s trying her best, but…” he trailed off upon noticing Harry’s arrival.  
“Was she made captain?” asked Harry, hoping it would relieve the awkwardness that had ensued.

“Yeah.” answered Luna. “She can be quite frightening now, actually. I had to ask her if she’d gone to Brazil recently.” she said simply, as if everyone understood what the implications of going to Brazil meant. The group was silent for a moment.

“Right… anyway, you should meet our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Harry. You’d love him.” said Neville excitedly.

“Ooh, he’s great! He’s got the longest hair I’ve ever seen on a man.” giggled Hermione.

“That’s funny, I thought you liked blondes, Hermione.” said Ron irritably. Hermione shot him a dark look and got up, walking towards Andromeda and Teddy.

The four of them continued to talk about Hogwarts, and Harry watched as Ron listened in on how great Hogwarts was now with an odd look of sadness on his face.

He spotted Mrs. Weasley heading into the kitchen, and Harry followed her.

“Molly, I wanted to ask you something.” he said uncertainly, and she turned around.

“Yes, dear?” said Mrs. Weasley, smiling.

“Well, I noticed Ginny isn’t here and… I know we’re not together anymore, but I don’t have any ill will towards her, I’d hate for it to be weird now…” he trailed off, refusing to look at her, but to his surprise Mrs. Weasley laughed.

“Oh, Harry. She’s been begging to see you for weeks! I told her, Hermione, Neville and Luna’s parents can do however they please, but I will _not_ let her take even a day off school, especially with the way her grades are looking right now… you don’t need to worry about anything, dear.” she finished, giving Harry a kind look.

Harry nodded, surprised, and left the room. Why had Ginny begged to come? Harry was completely over her at this point, so he’d assumed she’d be the same way… especially as she’d broken up with him in the first place. He chalked it up to her possibly using it as an excuse to take the day off school, but upon seeing Hermione, decided to take his questions to her instead. Hermione listened intently as Harry told her about his conversation with Mrs. Weasley, and his own contemplations about it.

“Well, Harry, it’s only natural she’d be worried… the break up is still fresh, it’s only been a few months, and you were practically in a coma for three weeks. Did you say you’re over her, though?” she ended on a curious note, and Harry saw that she was studying his face.

“Erm, yeah. Like you said, it’s been months.” he said.

“Could this possibly be because you have someone else on your mind?” said Hermione, almost teasingly. Harry sighed.

“What did Ron tell you?” he resigned, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep anything from her, but Hermione’s mouth shot open.

“You mean to tell me you’ve asked _Ron_ about a girl instead of me? Does Ron seem like the type of person to be going to for relationship advice?” she said, clearly offended.

“I mean, he basically forced it out of me — wait, but if Ron didn’t tell you how’d you know?” he asked her, suspicious.

“I just took a guess!” she exclaimed. “So do you plan on telling me? Or are you hoping to keep going to Ron so he can tell you exactly how to ruin your chances with her?” she said, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

Harry gave in and told her everything that had happened so far, feeling relieved he could finally talk to someone about it. Hermione listened intently.

“So now, she probably thinks I’ve just disappeared for a month… I can’t even imagine how much she must hate me, and knowing Mrs. Weasley, she won’t let me out the house unless it’s life or death, so it’s not like I can go talk to her.” he finished gloomily. Hermione was silent for a few seconds, taking it all in.

“Why don’t you try calling her? I don’t think writing a letter is a good idea, it’s a bit impersonal.” she finally said. Harry thought about it for a few seconds.

“I don’t know her number or anything… I’ll have to write her a letter.” he said, still deep in thought.

“I’m so happy you’ve found someone, Harry, I was so worried about you after you and Ginny broke up, especially when I left… I have to say, I’m surprised you’ve fallen for a muggle, but I suppose it makes sense you’d want to be with someone who doesn’t think of you as a _tragic hero_ , a celebrity…” she trailed off. Harry cleared his throat, thinking Hermione was hitting a little too close to home.

“Speaking of relationships, give Ron a break with the Malfoy stuff, can’t you?” said Harry darkly. It was now Hermione’s turn to look embarrassed.

“Oh, I know, I’m being a bit mean. You should see him though, Harry, he’s really different. I think last year was a slap on the face for him, he’s _nice_ now _._ He asked me how you were doing every session since your accident.” she said, and Harry raised his eyebrows at her.

“Don’t tell me Ron’s suspicions are right!” he exclaimed angrily. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

“God, no, Harry. Don’t be daft, now. You’re better than that.” she snapped.

“For what it’s worth, he was probably only asking in the hopes I was doing worse. If you mean that, though, give Ron a break. If I have to hear him go on about why you’re calling him _Draco_ one more time I’ll be wishing Voldemort had killed me.” he said sarcastically. Hermione gave him a slap on the arm at that, causing him to wince and go “Ouch!” loudly.

“Sorry, sorry! But you can’t say that! It’s too soon.” she said, though her face betrayed a small smile. “And no, he wasn’t hoping you’d get worse, by the way. I’ll stop mentioning it to Ron though, as clearly it’ll be punishing you too.” she continued, and they both laughed.

Slowly, more people started to leave, and eventually Bill and Fleur said their goodbyes, and Andromeda and Teddy left. Finally, Hagrid and McGonagall got ready to leave with Hermione, Neville and Luna. Ron and Hermione obviously couldn’t keep up their anger towards each other, as everyone painfully had to watch them passionately kiss for about two minutes before George forcefully pulled them apart. They, too, left, leaving just the remaining Weasleys and Harry.

Percy went to his old room, deciding to stay the night, while Ron, Harry and George made their way up to Ron’s room. Ron was lying on his bed face up, clearly saddened by Hermione’s departure, while George seemed to be writing something on Ron’s desk. Harry was sitting on his wheelchair, mindlessly throwing the snitch Dumbledore had given him up into the air and catching it. He was deep in thought, replaying his conversation with Hermione in his head.

“You’re good at that.” said Ron, randomly, who was now watching Harry play with the snitch. Harry snapped out of his thoughts.

“Oh, right, thanks…” he trailed off. He had a brief flashback of Snape’s memory, and quickly realized he’d picked up the habit from watching his father do it.

He started wording in his head the letter he’d write to Sadie. He’d have to send it by regular post since she was a muggle, which could take days… Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t let him go to the post office, and he was already dreading the smug look Ron would have if he asked him to do it…

“What’re you doing?” Ron asked George.

“Making an order for the shop.” replied George distractedly.

What could Harry even say had happened? If he told her he’d been in the hospital, surely she’d wonder why her and Dudley couldn’t have gone to visit him… plus, Hermione was right, it’d probably be impersonal to write a letter after a month of silence…

“You and Angelina seem to have gotten quite close.” mused Ron. George turned to look him.

“Yeah, I’m her boss.” he said shortly.

If only he had her phone number… or a way of getting it…

“No, not like that. From an outsider point of view, it looks like you two like each other.” said Ron bluntly, clearly unaware of his brother’s unwillingness to talk about the subject. George stood up abruptly, knocking Ron’s chair over, and snapping Harry into reality again.

“Well it’s none of your bloody business, is it, mate?” said George, who then stormed out of the room. Ron stared, after him, in shock.

“Blimey, what’s gotten into him?” he asked Harry, but Harry wasn’t paying attention anymore, as he’d just gotten an idea.

“Kreacher!” said Harry, and the elf in question immediately showed up in front of him. Ron let out a small scream.

“Master Potter called Kreacher?” said Kreacher eagerly.

“Can’t you let a bloke know before you go doing something like that?” Ron said indignantly. Harry ignored him.

“I need you to go to my cousin, Dudley Dursley. Make sure he’s alone. Tell him you’re there on my behalf, and then ask him for the phone number of a girl called Sadie Atwood. Can you do that?” said Harry, uncaring of the fact that Ron had witnessed the exchange.

“Kreacher will do exactly what Master Potter asks of him!” yelled Kreacher, immediately disappearing.

Harry chose to ignore the smirk Ron was giving him, as he purposefully looked in any direction but Ron’s. He painfully struggled to get up and in his bed, now understanding why Dr. Chang had insisted he use a wheelchair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to edit some tags out because I wasn’t too sure of what everything meant when I initially posted the fic, but there won’t be hermione/draco or harry/ginny romance, sorry if that was misleading :( i am an idealist though so yes to draco and dudley redemption arcs!


	12. Intelligence Spies

The next morning, Harry jealously watched as Arthur, Percy and Ron left to go to the ministry, and George to his shop. After they left, he stared at the note in his hand. Kreacher had appeared in the middle of the night, causing Ron to fall out of his bed, and Harry to almost scream in pain after abruptly getting up and reaching for his wand.

“Kreacher found Master Potter’s cousin! Dudley was very scared of Kreacher, he said he would call the police on Kreacher! But Kreacher managed to get Master Potter the number!” he had said proudly, holding up a piece of paper.

Harry thanked Kreacher and retrieved the phone number, and Ron spent the next five minutes laughing after Harry explained to him what the police was.

Now, with the note in his hand, he went over to Mrs. Weasley.

“Molly? Have you guys still got that telephone?” he asked her.

“A what, dear?” asked Mrs. Weasley, who looked perplexed.

“Erm, remember when Ron tried calling me, back in third year? When my uncle answered him?” explained Harry.

“Ooh, yes, follow me.” said Mrs. Weasley, who led him to a corner of the second floor where the dusty phone sat on a small table. Harry waited for Mrs. Weasley to leave, and took a deep breath. He recited the story he’d come up with in his head, feeling proud of it, and pressed the numbers. He listened to the phone ring.

“Hello?” said a voice, and Harry thought he was going to have a heart attack right there.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” said the voice again. Harry cleared his throat.

“Is this - uh - is this Sadie Atwood?” he asked nervously.

“This is she.” Sadie answered. “Who am I speaking to?”

“It’s… Harry. Harry Potter.” he said. They were silent.

“Yes?” she finally said, her voice incredibly sour. Harry felt hot, he was sweating…

“How are you?” he asked her, trying to sound cheery.

“Good. What do you want?” she said, with the same sour tone.

“Just to catch up, you know, it’s been a while…” he said hopefully.

“Do you want to start by saying where you’ve been?” she said. _Right_ thought Harry. _Straight to the chase._

“I was in the hospital.” he explained.

“Yeah, Dudley said that. For what?” she asked.

“Something terrible.” he said, kicking himself immediately after, as he realized his story didn’t sound convincing at all.

“Right.” she replied, dryly. “Well, Dudley and I wanted to visit you. Your friend told Dudley that wasn’t possible. Why is that?”

“It was contagious.” Harry lied quickly.

“So how come your friend saw you?” she replied, equally as dry as before. Harry cursed Ron in his head.

“He saw me through a screen. It was highly contagious.” he said.

“And what was the name of this disease? I’d love to learn more about it, maybe ask a few professors.” she said.

“We don’t know yet. An exotic mosquito bit me, they think it’s a new disease.” he lied again.

“I wasn’t aware of there being exotic mosquitos in Poland. Especially in November. How fascinating.” she answered sarcastically.

Harry’s stomach dropped. Had he told her he was going to Poland? He was silent, contemplating what to say next, and considering just hanging up.

“You’ll just have to take my word for it.” he said after a while.

“Oh, I’ll _have to_ , will I? Well, I don’t believe you for a second, Potter. Anyway, I’m busy.” she said, and hung up.

Harry stared at the phone for a few seconds, and then kicked the leg of the table it stood on, sending the whole thing into a broken pile on the floor. Harry took out his wand.

“ _Reparo_.” he whispered quickly, hearing Mrs. Weasley calling after him and running up the stairs, and the table went back to its normal state.

* * *

Harry was playing with his snitch again, quite angrily this time, with Ron laying on his bed. They were listening to the radio transmission of a Chudley Cannons game.

“I take it the phone cool didn’t go well?” said Ron, who was now watching him.

“It’s phone _call_. And no, it didn’t. I tried saying I had an infectious disease. She didn’t buy it.” he said shortly, catching his snitch.

“Why?” asked Ron.

“She asked how it was possible for an exotic mosquito to bite me in November, in Poland. I don’t remember telling her I went to Poland, but she knew.” answered Harry. He knew he might’ve not remembered because he had been drunk, but chose not to mention it. To his surprise, however, when he looked at Ron, he had a guilty expression on his face.

“What is it?” snapped Harry.

“I might’ve, erm, told your cousin that the accident happened in Poland.” Ron said slowly.

Harry threw the snitch so hard it blasted a hole through Ron’s ceiling. He quickly repaired it, but it was too late.

“Boys?” said Mr. Weasley breathlessly, as he burst into the room. “What was that sound?”

“Just an accident with the snitch, Arthur. My bad.” said Harry apologetically. Mr. Weasley left.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright. Dudley was pressing me for answers, and that’s all I could give. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.” explained Ron desperately. Harry nodded.

“Yeah, it’s not your fault.” he said curtly, but thought that Ron could’ve at least told him he had mentioned it, so he could’ve avoided the embarrassment of being caught in a lie…

“Why don’t you try cooling her again?” said Ron tentatively.

Harry shrugged, and feeling like he had nothing to lose, went to the corner where the phone sat, typing the number again. It rang, but no one picked up this time.

* * *

Harry spent the next day trying to convince Mrs. Weasley to let him apparate to London, at least just _once_ , but Mrs. Weasley wasn’t having any of it.

“You are not apparating anywhere, Harry Potter! You are far too weak, Mr Chang said you were not to use any magical form of transportation. Why d’you think we used the car to get here? Now, _I won’t hear any more of it_. It’s time for your medicine.” she said strictly, and Harry tried hard not to scowl. Just as he was about to open his mouth, she interrupted him. “The ministry will not allow you to use a car.”

He and Ron spent the evening playing chess, and the next morning Harry tried calling Sadie again, to no avail. That afternoon, as he jealously watched Ron and George play quidditch, he considered writing to Hermione for help, or even just giving up altogether, but decided he’d give it just another day before doing either of those.

The next morning, after Ron, Arthur and George left, Harry made his way to the same spot, which he was starting to detest, and typed her phone number. He didn’t need the note anymore as he had now memorized the numbers. He listened to it ring.

“Yes?” said Sadie. Harry almost dropped the phone in surprise.

“Can I help you?” she said, after he didn’t say anything, too speechless to reply.

“I — I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think you’d answer.” he said truthfully.

“Great, so this was a waste of time…” she said, and Harry could almost hear the eye roll.

“Wait!” he exclaimed. “Can’t you, just, hear me out? Please?”

She was silent for a few moments.

“Go on.” she said quietly.

“Remember when I told you I couldn’t tell you? It’s — I wish I could, Sades, but I can’t just yet. You’ll understand when I do, I promise you. You have to believe me for now though, I mean — I’m sorry, you don’t _have_ to do anything, but I’m asking you to _please_ believe me.” he said.

They were silent again, with Harry’s heart beating so hard he was afraid she’d be able to hear it.

“You called me Sades. That’s what my sister called me.” she said quietly, after a while. Harry realized he was holding his breath, and sighed in relief.

“Do you want to talk about that?” he asked cautiously.

“I’ll tell you, eventually. Two can play at that.” she said, and Harry spotted a hint of playfulness in her voice.

“Fair enough.” he replied, smiling. They were silent again, and Harry heard scratching on the other end. “What are you doing?” he asked her.

“Homework. You know, I’ve thought about this for a while, and I think you’re either involved in some highly illegal criminal activity, or you work for MI6.” she said.

“Those are very opposite of each other.” joked Harry.

“Yeah, and you’re just as likely to be involved in either one.” she said matter-of-factly. Harry found himself wondering if she was joking or not.

“Well it’s… something similar. Just as secretive, anyway.” he answered.

“When can you tell me?” she asked.

“When we’re both ready.” he answered. Silence.

“When will I see you again?” she asked him, her voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.

“Hopefully towards the beginning of next week.” he replied quickly, without missing a beat.

“Are you at your place? I could come by, unless you’re still… _infectious_ , or whatever it is.”

“I’m at my best mate’s place. The one Dudley met. I’m still, erm, recovering, though. His family’s practically my family too, so they’ve been helpful. Too helpful.” he joked, mostly to himself, at the end.

“They sound very kind.” she said.

“They are, I’d love for you to meet them.” said Harry honestly, then laughing to himself at the idea of Sadie meeting the eccentric Weasleys.

“I mean, I could still go.” she said, sounding almost hopeful. Harry gulped.

“They live far, in the midlands. Plus, they’re also…” he trailed off, hoping she’d understand his point.

“They’re also intelligence spies. I get it. I have a question, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Why couldn't you stay at the Dursley’s?” she asked. Harry contemplated on what to say, deciding to give away some honesty.

“The Dursleys… aren’t so kind. Plus, they’re not highly dangerous criminals, like me.” he joked, and to his pleasure, Sadie laughed on the other end.

“A bit of honesty. I like it. Should I be worried, walking around with a felon like you?” she said sarcastically. Harry caught the irony in this statement, knowing that association with him _was_ , in fact, dangerous. She didn’t need to know that, however.

“The only thing you should be worried about are other women being drawn to my looks. I’m sure you’ve noticed, by now. I’m like a magnet.”

“Are you insinuating I’d be _jealous_ of you, Harry Potter?”

“There’s no need to insinuate, that’s a fact.” he said unabashedly. She laughed again.

“Incredibly confident, aren’t you? Need I remind you how you were begging me to hear you out at the beginning of this call?” she joked, making Harry blush.

“Alright, alright. You win.”

“I always do. Anyway, I have to finish my homework, I have to leave for class in about half an hour.” she said, and Harry could’ve sworn she sounded sad.

“I’ll stay.” he said quickly. “On the line.” he added.

“While I do my homework?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing to do anyway.”

Sadie was silent.

“Why would you do that?” she asked him quietly.

Harry blushed again.

“For your sake, mostly. I’m very smart, so I’ll be here when you inevitably need my help on your work.” he joked weakly. Sadie laughed.

“Fantastic! Number one, what are the themes and motifs of _Othello_?” she said, to Harry’s surprise.

“Fine, you got me. I’ll just be here so that in case you have anything else to say, you don’t have to call me, or wait for me to call you.” he said.

She was silent again, and Harry started feeling rather stupid…

“Sure. Thank you.” she finally said, quietly.

They were silent after that, the only sound being her pen scratching. Harry pressed the loudspeaker button on the telephone, and resumed playing with his snitch, but was sloppier with it this time, the butterflies in his stomach making it hard to concentrate.

Soon after, Harry could’ve sworn he had heard movement in one of the rooms, but when he turned around there was no one there. Eventually Sadie spoke again.

“I have to go to my lesson now. Bye, Harry.” she said.

“Bye, Sades.” he replied, and the call ended.

* * *

It was Friday, the day after Harry’s call with Sadie, and Dr. Chang had stopped by to check up on Harry. He was warmly ushered in by Mrs. Weasley, and both Harry and Dr. Chang sat on a couch in the living room while Mrs. Weasley made tea.

“So, how are you doing, Harry?” asked Dr. Chang, while pulling out some parchment.

“Better. At the beginning of the week I could barely get out of the wheelchair to get onto the bed or bath, but now it only hurts a bit, like my legs are bruised.” replied Harry truthfully.

“That’s great Harry, now I’m going to give you a potion to drink, then we’ll try to get you to walk… ah, you are too kind, Molly.” said Dr. Chang with a smile, as Mrs. Weasley brought everyone tea, and then sat on a chair opposite them.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Kao. Please, continue.” she said.

“I was just telling Harry we’re going to test his movement after he drinks this.” said Kao, pulling out a flask with a green potion inside, out of his bag. Harry drank the potion, and felt his body relax.

Kao scribbled on his parchment, then stood up.

“So we’re going to try some arm movement first…”

Harry was instructed to move and stretch his arm around, which hurt, but not unbearably. He did the same with the other arm, while Dr. Chang muttered “excellent, very good…” and scribbled away some more. It was then time to walk, which Harry did with surprising ease, though he downplayed how much it hurt him.

“It might still hurt, Harry,” said Dr. Chang, making Harry suspect he knew he was downplaying it, “but if I had asked you to do this a week ago, you would’ve instantly fallen over and probably passed out from the pain. You’re making an excellent recovery. You should be very thankful to Mrs. Weasley, I have no doubt she’s taking fantastic care of you.” Dr. Chang finished, smiling, making both Harry and Mrs. Weasley turn very red.

“Now, onto what you _really_ want to hear. I think you’re ready to be out of the wheelchair tomorrow, or Sunday if you want to be extra cautious. You can go back to work on Monday, though I wouldn’t expect the pain to completely stop for at least another week or two. So I strongly advise you to not do any strenuous physical activity for at least two weeks. That does mean no quidditch, Harry.” said Dr. Chang, standing up to leave.

He and Harry shook hands, and Harry and Mrs. Weasley thanked him, with Mrs. Weasley looking almost emotional as he left the house.

“Best in the country, Harry!” she said with a grin, once she had shut the door.

* * *

Harry told Ron about what Dr. Chang had said that afternoon. (“Did he bring another cake?” had asked Ron, only to be disappointed.)

“That’s tough, but at least you’ll be able to play when Christmas comes around. With Ginny back, we can have actual teams.” said Ron.

Harry had been in a considerably better mood since his phone call with Sadie, and felt happy the two could now talk about Ron’s sister normally again.

“How’s Hermione?” he asked.

“She’s alright. She’s stopped mentioning that twat, Malfoy, thank Merlin. Maybe McGonagall had the good sense to discontinue the tutoring.” said Ron.

Harry nodded guiltily, knowing the reason Hermione had stopped talking about it was because he had asked her to.

“What should I expect going back to work on Monday?” asked Harry. This question seemed to trigger something in Ron.

“Right, I was going to ask you about this. I overheard Williams and Perkins talking, earlier.” said Ron, leaning in to Harry.

“And?” whispered Harry, eagerly.

“They said they cracked the communication system. They’ve got code names, and Perkins said it could be related to something real or _corporeal_ , I think he said. Didn’t you say your dad did something like that with the Marauders?” said Ron.

Harry thought about it for a few moments.

“Yeah, they had a system like that. They were animagi, and they had nicknames relating to the animal they became. My dad was a stag, so Prongs. Sirius a dog, so Padfoot, and so on.” explained Harry. Ron nodded.

“Well, if they bring it up to us, it’d be worth mentioning.” said Ron. Harry agreed with him.

“Other than that, just paperwork. Justin Hues said something about field work next week, but I’d take anything he says with a grain of salt.” said Ron.

Harry nodded, still thinking about what Ron had told him, and deciding to start watching out for animals following him around.

Dinner that evening went peacefully, and Mrs. Weasley had started making even more delicious meals than usual. Harry had an odd suspicion that she was trying to bribe him with food into not leaving the Burrow on Sunday, and noticed that in the past day she’d just look at him knowingly for a while, or smile at him for no reason.

The next day, Harry watched again as Ron and George played quidditch, and took advantage of their being busy to make Sadie a call.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Are you free on Monday?” he asked her immediately.

“Last time you said that I didn’t hear from you for almost a month.” she said suspiciously.

“Well, I’m going back home tomorrow, so I thought…” he trailed off.

“Monday at 7?” asked Sadie.

“Perfect.”

Harry painfully made his way to dinner that night, which earned him a dirty look from Mrs. Weasley.

“I still think you could’ve benefited from the wheelchair for a few more days, Harry Potter! Look at you!” she exclaimed disappointedly.

Harry brushed her off, muttering “I’m fine, I’m fine…”

As it was Harry’s last day at the Weasleys, they had had a bigger dinner than usual, and Bill, Fleur, Percy and Angelina had joined them. Mrs. Weasley and Fleur were in the kitchen, and George and Angelina were talking in a corner of the table. Harry had noticed that their conversation had become rather heated, but he actively ignored them as he chatted with Ron, Bill, Mr. Weasley and Percy, not wanting to intrude. This was however made impossible when the two’s voices grew so loud it forced their conversation to come to an abrupt end.

“I’m sick of this, George! Do you think I don’t know how you feel?” shouted Angelina.

“You _don’t_ know how it feels! He wasn’t your brother!” yelled George back. The four men had all turned to stare at George and Angelina, who were glaring at each other.

“I loved him too, George! And I love you!” cried Angelina, who was now in tears. Harry felt uncomfortable, and a quick glance at Ron told him he wasn’t the only one who felt he was intruding in something rather personal.

“You’d dare…” hissed George, in a voice Harry had never heard come from him. “You’d dare say this to me? In front of my family?”

Angelina angrily glanced at the four men on the other end of the table, who awkwardly turned away and looked down. Mrs. Weasley and Fleur had now appeared in the doorway, both wearing equal expressions of horror and shock.

“They want to see you _happy_ , George! Even if that means it’s with me.” she said, her voice now frail.

“I won’t stand to see you disrespect his honor like this. If he were alive you’d be with _him_. You just chose the next best thing.” spat George, which made Angelina burst into sobs. She quickly got up and ran off, followed by Mrs. Weasley and Fleur calling after her.

The group was silent as George stayed rooted to his spot, breathing hard, barely noticing them. Finally, Mrs. Weasley and Fleur marched back to the dining room.

“George Fabian Weasley, how _dare_ you. That girl has been nothing but kind to you, and for you to disrespect a woman like that — in _my_ house!” cried Mrs. Weasley, her face so red it could’ve matched her hair.

“She’s lost her bloody mind.” said George angrily. “Didn’t you hear her? She’s got no idea of what she’s talking about! Like I’d — As if I’d —” he stuttered, unable to complete his sentence. Mrs. Weasley glared at him.

“She’s right! Fred would’ve wanted you to be happy, and you’re doing a right awful job of that —”

“You don’t have a clue what he would’ve wanted!” shouted George, standing up. Mr. Weasley also stood up, and the three were frozen, glaring at each other.

“George, your mother’s right. You can do whatever the hell you want in your own time, but we will not allow you to make a scene like this in our house.” said Mr. Weasley strictly.

“Fine, I’ll leave then.” spat George, who then stormed out of the room and went upstairs. The room was so silent that Ron jumped when Fleur’s watch suddenly beeped. Soon after, they heard a pop resound upstairs, signifying that George had disapparated. Mrs. Weasley quietly went upstairs, and Bill, Fleur and Percy awkwardly disbanded thereafter.

“Do you think he’s actually gone?” asked Ron to Harry later that night, as they sat in their respective beds. Harry shrugged.

“Looks like it.”

“I didn’t have a clue that was going on between them. Did you?”

Harry shook his head.

“He seemed quite touchy when you asked about it the other night, but I didn’t think it was this bad.” he answered.

“I wonder where he’s gone… tough situation to be in, that. Although I think he’s overreacting a bit…” mumbled Ron, pulling his covers up.

Harry silently agreed, and the two went to sleep.


End file.
